


One half of the hourglass

by mostlikelydefinentlymad



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: 1940s, AND NO WAR, Brooklyn, LOOK MA - NO SADS, M/M, Stucky - Freeform, happy childhood flashbacks, preserum steve rogers, short fics that tie together, the small details that come with sharing an apartment with someone you love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2015-10-13
Packaged: 2018-04-19 21:43:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 27,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4762064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mostlikelydefinentlymad/pseuds/mostlikelydefinentlymad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>wise men say that time is merely a concept - Steve measures it in moments, in the smell of Bucky's hair fresh from the shower, the bright light of the sun as it rises in the sky.</p><p>**new chapter added 10/13/2015**</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> love is a sickness, your fingers grazing mine - the cure

Peppermint, woody cologne with notes of lavender and coumarin, the wrinkle on Bucky's bed sheet - he spent the night tossing and turning. The extra cup in the kitchen sink with the lingering scent of coffee, an empty bowl beside of it - he left before Steve woke. An early shift then - he would be home around 4pm.

Bucky's mattress sinks slightly as Steve sits on it, gathers the blankets in hand and inhales deeply - imagines Bucky in his pajama bottoms with bare feet padding across the cold wooden flooring as he pours himself a cup of coffee, wanders to the bathroom to splash on some cologne and deodorant before rushing out the door, running his fingers through thick hair the color of the leaves at the end of Fall. His pillow is crumpled and lying on the floor - pushed there during the night, no doubt. Steve collects it and carefully places it back where it should be and spreads the blanket out once more.

He misses Bucky something awful when he's gone. He is a constant presence in Steve's life - his touchstone.

Somewhere in between the early morning hours and 4pm Steve falls asleep on the sofa with Bucky's favorite shirt clutched tightly in his hand. It's a dark navy blue - nothing more than a basic t-shirt but it hugs the muscles he gets from working, snugly. Most of all, it smells like him and it's comforting.

"Stevie, I'm home," Bucky gently shakes Steve's shoulder as his frame comes into view - blurry. It's Winter and so the sun has already set for the day, casting the small apartment in darkness.

Bucky flicks on the living room light and Steve stretches - "What time is it?"  If Bucky notices the t-shirt, he does not say anything. Steve waits until he's distracted and stuffs it into the side of the sofa.

"Little after four, just got home. You been sleepin' this whole time?"

"I guess so," Steve's stomach grumbles loudly as he shuffles to the kitchen. Bucky trails behind him and Steve allows himself to drift away for a moment - imagines Bucky coming in from the cold to envelope him in his arms until they're both warm, sharing a blanket and shivering, intertwining their hands as they curl up on the bed like two pieces of a puzzle that fit together just right.

"Steve? I asked if you wanted me to make somethin' for dinner. Are you feelin' okay?" Cold hands on a hot forehead - the smell of coumarin, lavender and the outside - his shirt on Steve's frame, his fingers in his hair -

Bucky pulls him out of his daydreams with icy hands pressed against each pale cheek, brow furrowed with worry.

" 'mm fine, jus' tired is all."

Bucky walks away to gather ingredients and Steve watches the muscles on his back work against a faded t-shirt, delicate blue veins like a road map trailing down his arms -

"Can you hand me those carrots?"

Steve falters for a moment before collecting the carrots - his hand brushing Bucky's on the way over. _Electric_ \- lightning covering her night sky with flashes of vivid purples and blues like the color of his eyes when he's happy. He leans against the counter as he chops - each fine movement coming off without a hitch, a knife slicing through bright orange and the color of grass at the park where they visit on hot Summer nights when they can't sleep.

 _Speak._ "How was work?"

Bucky sighs - his adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. "It wasn't bad. Bobby was there today - he was talkin' about his new girl. Seems he has a different one every week - this one is a feisty brunette, he said. Her dad's got a real good job so he's gonna see if he can get him in. Sure don't wanna lose him though, he's a great worker."

The carrots are scraped into a pot - strong hands begin to peel potatoes as he continues - "Lou ain't gonna be there next week I don't think. He came down with the flu and I'm kinda glad 'cause I don't wanna bring it home to you." 

Baby blue eyes, gentle hands brushing back Steve's hair when he's sick - the smell of menthol and cough medicine mixed with Bucky - _home._

"You worry too much." Steve moves to the sink to scrub dirty potatoes - picked up on Bucky's way home; cheaper on Wednesdays.

"Jus' don't want you to get sick is all."  Peeled potatoes - sharp knife cutting them into irregular cubes, dirt under Bucky's fingernails, the shape of his lips when he frowns.

Steve finishes scrubbing and places them beside of Bucky to cube - two shoulders brushing and working in tandem, two halves of a whole.

"What kinda trouble did you get into today?"  Slice, cube, slice, cube.

_None, I waited for you to get home until I got too tired to keep my eyes open._

"Think I slept the day away."  

Slice, cube, pass to Steve, thrown into the pot. 

"You sure you're alright?"  A creased forehead, frown firmly in place -  _worry._

"Told you I'm fine."

Slice, cube, pass to Steve, fingers brush, potatoes thrown in the pot.

" 'cause I can get Lou to cover my shift if you need me." 

Slice, cube, Bucky's deep breath in and out, pass potatoes to Steve, toss into pot.

"Tell you what, I'll let you know if I start feelin' bad."

The remainder of the potatoes carelessly dumped into the pot - his hands curled around the handles as he fills it with water, sprinkles in dry herbs and a pinch of salt.

Sharp blue eyes like a Summer storm - creased with concern, mind whirling to figure out if he's lying or not.

"Promise?"

"I promise."  Heart beating louder in Steve's chest, a firm squeeze of his shoulder in passing - lingering like a shadow after hes wandered to the living room.

"Come in here - I wanna tell you about the rest of my day."  Crooked grin, hand motioning for Steve to join him on the couch - dust hitting the air as Steve sits, elaborate hand movements as Bucky spins tale after tale - eyes lighting up when he's excited.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> your name like honey on my lips

The bitter tang of blood in Steve's mouth, the moment of contact - a bruised fist with Steve's cheekbone, a damp alley with feral cats and metal trash can lids.

A swift blur of dark hair and a familiar voice - a yelp as the other man runs in the opposite direction. Angry eyes that soften when looking at Steve -

"How bad did he get you?"

Finger tips on a tender bone - flinching at the touch of his hand drawing back - the rise and fall of his chest as he sighs.

Eyes the color of bluebells bending toward the sun - too sad and heavy. The crunch of snow under heavy boots - a reassuring arm thrown over knobby shoulders, words that crawl under Steve's skin and bloom - he is the sun.

"Lets get you cleaned up."

Winter wind ripping through a thin jacket - the absence of heat when he moves away, ice slippery against Steve's shoes - a cough building in his throat and breaking the surface - the sound loud as a bomb in a silent chapel.

The apartment door creaking, a hand at the small of his back urging him forward - pushing him onto the bed and peeling off his shoes - teeth chattering and chest rattling.

"We'll warm you up then I'll take care of your face okay?"  Gritted teeth, hands balled into fists, back ramrod straight - panic in his eyes.

"I can t-take c-care of myself B-Buck."  The cold seeping into fragile bones, lungs burning, the weight of thick blankets being tucked around him.

"There's a time to be a hero and there's a time to let someone else help," Bucky lectures - voice wobbling, shaking hands, panic in his eyes.

"Jus' need to sleep is all." Body aching all over, fighting to stay awake, a hand curled around his own - finding himself in the creases of Bucky's hands and the folds of his heart, calluses where they were once smooth, the sound of his laughter when Steve makes a bad joke - how his face lights up in the Fall when the leaves are changing color.

"I'm gonna go get you some medicine, _don't_ go anywhere."  A final squeeze of his hand - throwing off warmth like a furnace and clammy even in the draftiness of the apartment.

Dreams of Bucky in his best suit - eyes pleading for Steve to move in, solemn vows - heavy words bleeding love and inky black pupils expanding; devouring sunshine and Steve's face in the semi-darkness -

"Steve? Buddy? I need you to wake up and take this medicine. It's not gonna taste good but you know the drill."

A tiny cup of green liquid, trusting hands and that look in his eye - fear.

"Thanks Buck."  A vast understatement mumbled against scratchy moth eaten blankets the color of freshly stained wood aged with the passage of time.

Fingers brushing - breathing life into Steve's starving body. _Devour me._

"Lou's gonna cover a few of my shifts- said his family is outta town for at least four or five days and he doesn't wanna stay home, says it's too quiet." 

Sacrifices, a smaller paycheck, medical bills, Bucky's fingers worked raw -

"Buck..."  A broken name bouncing around in his head, voice dry and hoarse, coughing until he nearly spits up blood. His name - honey on parched lips.

"Honey..." The unspoken making itself known - Bucky's forehead bunched in confusion, his hand cupping a pale cheek - Patroclus reborn in search of his lost love, golden sandals and sweet figs. 

"Yes sweetheart?" Bucky's mouth curled into a grin - white teeth shining as the sun sets and paints their bedroom in bubblegum pink - his face painted with lavender and orange - the color of tangerines at Christmas when Bucky surprises him.

Citrus, he would taste like citrus. 

"Orange..." Incoherent babbling that makes more sense in his head, fuzzy with the effects of vile green medicine.

"That's a new one." The sun breaking through the clouds - flowers bending and basking in the glory of it -

"You're not makin' any sense and I'm cold. Move over."  

Aphrodite showering love, burnished silver in the moonlight, stars twinkling in the sky - he is the moon.

"Don't hog all of the covers," the lilt of Bucky's voice like a hot bowl of soup on a chilly day seeping into muscles and caressing each bone.

"I'm sick, whats your excuse?" Whiny voice crawling its way out of his mouth and onto a sharp tongue.

"I'm cold. Ain't that reason enough?"  Skin against skin - light - a feather floating toward Earth and kissing the ground.

"You're a...a feather Buck. You're my feather."

"Why a feather? Why not a strong tree that doesn't fall apart?"

Tree's are not delicate - they are not whisper soft against skin that craves the tickle of another body.

"Feathers...feathers are soft."  He would understand - he needs to understand.

"I ain't soft, Steve."  Stubborn pride that fades near the end - kissing a letter and sending it on the wind, he will find it.

"Gonna write you a letter...kiss."

Bucky's body taut as a bow - arching toward the stars. Steve is a luminescent star who prays to Selene - goddess of the moon - allow me to fly to the sun and I will ask nothing more of you.

"Now I know you're not feelin' well, you're ramblin' about kisses and I know no one has kissed you lately."

"Kiss _you_ ,"  David standing in front of the lion and daring it to strike - Helios in radiant colors on his nose - a palette painted by the gods.

Bucky's eyes wide and blue as the ocean - waves crashing against the shore, lapping up grains upon the waterfront. Gritty beads of sand rough in Steve's hand - each one a declaration of love.

"I'm not gonna kiss you Steve, we can't both be sick."

Bucky's face tightly drawn in frustration, lips slick as he licks them nervously, the smell of menthol on his hands.

"Love you like...like the sand loves the...ocean."

"Love you too, pal."  Bucky gripping the covers tight -

Ballerinas dancing pirouettes around the two of them, fields of sunflowers and daisies - bright young things, red carnations blooming under the weight of him.

Closing the distance - the tide pushing against the current - coming together in perfect harmony.

Lips colliding, Pandora's box opening, the taste of honey on the tip of his tongue - dipping in and diving down deep. Hyacinthus whom Apollo loved - lips red roseleaf and slick, floating down and landing in his arms.

Sound vibrating against Steve's mouth - a deep moan, teeth nipping at Steve's bottom lip and savoring - time is forever suspended in moments.

The rush of frosty air in the absence of his mouth - _longing._

"Sorry Steve, I shouldn't...we can't do that. You're sick and you're not thinkin' right."

A candlelight being extinguished - shrouded in darkness - inky blackness drowning out all of the colors turning to gray and charcoal - the color of Bucky's pencil when he sketches - cramming love into a tiny box and shoving it to the back of the closet. 

A dying star hitting the ground at 90 miles an hour and shattering into a million pieces - Steve is decay and sickness.

Stars are not meant to embrace the sun. The moon will never touch the stars. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'cause your eyes look like coming home

Buttery popcorn on a warm waterfront, cotton candy sticky on children's fingers in passing, bright lights and throngs of people, Bucky's hand petal soft on Steve's as he tugs them toward a long line -

"Buck, no. I'm not gonna ride that thing." 

The Cyclone dark and looming - coming into view with shrieks and giggles.

"I'll do the dishes next time if you'll jus' ride it with me once." 

Crystal blue eyes, the second type of his smile - the _I'm gonna look at you with puppy dog eyes until you give in_ type.

"Just once but you gotta keep your end of the bargain!"

"You're gonna love it buddy!"

Giddy rocking on his heels, crinkles around his eyes when he grins - a prism of rainbow colors after rainfall.

"Step right up!"

Technician tugging on a loose seat belt until it's as tight as he can get it, the faint scent of cigarettes and chewing gum - cough bubbling up-

"Here I'll finish it, hes real skinny and it's hard to make sure hes in there jus' right."

Stale tobacco replaced by Bucky's shampoo - lavender and chamomile, Steve's soap on his skin - heady.

"Sit back and I'll tighten it. Can't have you fallin' out can we?"

Two parallel lines meeting in the middle - memories of a kiss and the smell of menthol on Bucky's hand -

"That'll do it."  Stench returning, hands that are too cold tugging against the seat belt, chewing gum smacking with mouth wide open - watching as the technician hobbles back to the line.

"Two days worth of dishes, Buck."

Head tilted to the side - feigned irritation, mouth quirking that gives Bucky away -

"If that's what it takes."

Rickety creaking of the ride whirring to life - heavy breathing beside of him, Bucky's hand gripping the hand rail tight, nausea burning in Steve's throat -

" 'mm gonna be sick!"

Crawling toward the top with a steep drop - mountains crashing down under the weight of snow, green limes - sickness

"Wait 'till we get off to hurl!"

His voice - an anchor giving strength, strong thigh pressed against a smaller one - warm, safe - stomach lurching

"I cannnnnnn't!"  Voice carrying on the wind, hands shaking, skin clammy -

"Close your eyes!"

Onyx black - the color of his pupils, twist, turn, round and round -

"Did that help?!"

High pitched screeching voice laced with happiness - he would taste like the feeling of the first snowfall after a long dry Winter -

"Kinda!" 

Hands gripping the railing tight, shaking and breathing in deep - queasy

"Here take my hand!"

Sunshine beating down on bare skin - hidden freckles on his back - tracing them with fingertips and forming constellations, rough hands from late hours spent working -

"Ow Steve! Don't hold on so tight!"

Ascending a wooden staircase and wooshing toward the bottom without brakes - stomach rolling

"Sorry Buck"

Reassuring squeeze - _You can't hurt me that bad._

The final descent - knuckles aching with the force of holding onto his hand -

The sound of Bucky joining in the carefree shrieks - they're nine years old and swinging on the swingset as high as they can go and he's fearless as he leaps from his seat and tumbles to the ground - grabbing Steve's hand in the present and raising it with his - stomach revolting once more

"Is it over yet? 'mm gonna puke!"

Ride slowing to a stop - Bucky's hand at the small of Steve's back urging him forward and gripping a thin button up - wobbling legs and spinning head, the world is upside down -

"You look awfully pale - you gonna hurl?"

Bile in the back of Steve's mouth, hunkered over the pavement - trash can too far away

"Guess you weren't kidding huh?"

"Dishes, two...two days. You owe me."

Gut returning to normal, knees still unstable, the weight of Bucky's arm across his shoulders - the only touch he feels safe indulging in public -

"Home."

"Yeah we can go home and you can take a nap but it was fun, right?"

Racing Bucky up a hill in the Fall - Bucky's ma scolding the both of them, inhaler after - worth it to see the glimmer in Bucky's eyes

"We got different ideas of whats fun."

Bodies overflowing onto sidewalks and blending together - shades of tree bark brown, pastel yellow the color of buttercups in the Spring and robins egg blue -

"Tell you what, we'll go home and I'll show you what I've been workin' on - you can tell me what I got wrong."

Bucky's knowing gaze - Steve's appreciation for constructive criticism, Bucky's talent -

" 's not fair, you don't get much wrong."

Bucky's scoff - the confident ease in which he carries himself, palm recalling the weight of his -

"You're a dirty rotten liar."

"That'd be _you._ " 

Bucky's grandma's face as she scrubbed tiny faces - blueberry pie staining the pads of their fingers - the tangy sweetness on his lips - thinking even back then that Bucky's lips would taste like fruit ripening in the Summer -

"Nope, still you."

Affectionate shove to Bucky's arm, the smell of New York in the heat - hot dog vendors and newspaper stands, lingering scent of popcorn on Bucky's skin - butter and salt on full lips -

"I'll pay you back for this some day, you'll see."

"Sure you will."  Teasing, goading -

"Keep this up and next time I sketch you I'll give you big ears."

Surprise and amusement in his eyes - never meeting Steve's

"What if I already got big ears?"

"You don't."

"How would you know unless you study 'um?"

Bucky's ear against his pillow in the morning - vulnerable in his sleep, sheets riding low on his hips - tempting freckles -

"Didya hear me?"

"What? Why'd I study your big ears for?"

Taking the steps one at a time, key clicking in the lock, neighbor exiting his own apartment - skin wrinkled and marred with age - _will we look like that when we're old?_

"Ain't gotta clue."

Dusty apartment - Bucky's jacket thrown over Steve's, last night's dinner of boiled potatoes and canned beans in the air, an abandoned notebook on Bucky's chair - _home._

"Here - take a look at this while I start on the dishes." 

A well worn notebook - flipping through the pages and landing on the last one - still life. Angular lines of the fire escape drawn in the corner, the side of a face with familiar features -

"This is good, when'd you draw me?" 

Soap suds on on Bucky's hands climbing past his wrists, the clatter of dishes -

"Last week when you were watchin' the birds." 

Beautiful - Steve looks beautiful in the sketch with long eyelashes - face turned toward the window. 

"This how you see me?" 

"Yeah 'cause that's how you look."  

Bubbles on scratched plates, the bend and twist of his wrist as he dries each one - watching from a safe distance, the heat of blood rushing to the surface - blushing 

"Can I keep it?"

Bucky's lips a perfect O in surprise - eyes glittering -

"Why'd you wanna keep that for?"  

Bucky feigning disdain and failing - heart on his sleeve 

"No reason. Need some help with the dishes?"

"Sure would be nice."

The sloshing of water - brushing of skin against skin - slippery dishes and standing side by side with him -

"You got any of me?"

Confusion on Steve's face, cheeks turning pink -

"A couple."

"Can I see 'um?"

"Not right now."

"After we're done with the dishes? Come on - you know I won't laugh."

Bucky's hip bumping into Steve's - graceful curves and arches-

"Jus' one."

"That's not fair."

"Yea it is. You're the one who chose to do two drawings on one page. Doesn't count as two."

"I'm tryin' to save on paper."

Stacked and dry dishes - resting in the cabinet - _ours._

Floor boards creaking against the weight of their feet, carrying them into the living room. 

" **One.** " 

"I promised didn't I?"

Pressing a weather beaten and aged sketch book (gift from his ma two Christmas' before she passed) into Bucky's palm - time slowing as nerves set in - a sketch of Bucky peacefully sleeping with arm thrown over his eyes, chest bare in the stuffy apartment -

Bucky almost looking shy - "I like it."

"I can take criticism Buck, you don't hafta spare my feelings."

Bucky's finger tracing knuckles on the back of the drawings hand - eyes veiled by dark lashes -

"Since you got to keep one of mine I get to keep this one."

Heart leaping into Steve's throat - _love._

"Its got some flaws."

"Don't care."

The other smile of Bucky's that only Steve gets to see - one side of his mouth tugging into a sideways grin, chewing his bottom lip - _sap._

 _Say something._ "Pie."

"Pie?"

Surprised blue eyes - blue lake water lapping against the shore -

"I was thinkin' about your grandma's pie. We can get an ingredient every week when you get paid and I'll see if I can make it like she did."

Bucky's eyes glistening - misty and trying to hide it.

"I'd like that."

Steve's long fingers carefully tearing out the drawing and folding - resisting the urge to tuck the paper into Bucky's pocket -

"Don't know why you'd wanna keep this but here you go."

Bucky holding it like it's fragile, treating it like it's rubies and gold -

"Thanks a bunch pal."

"I'll do a little better on the next one."

Melting like sugar in the first rays of daylight - the sound of his deep breathing in the next bed over -

"I'm good for practicing on."

"You would be if you didn't flop 'round like a fish when you sleep." 

"So draw me when I'm awake then."

Throwing a hook into a pond and coming back with flowers - purple and yellows like the fading of a bruise under his gentle fingers -

"Now why would I do that?"

" 'cause I'm handsome and you want it to be accurate."

A wink and the smile he graces dates with - charming

"If your head gets any bigger we won't be able to get it through the door."  Crisis averted.

"Well then you'd _have_ to draw me then."

Stubborn, mischievous - teasing.

" 'mm not wasting two pieces of paper on your big head."

Bucky flopping down on the sofa by Steve's side - his own sketch book in hand.

"Alright then - use mine."

"You want me to draw you right now?"

"Why not?"

" 'cause you're sweaty and it's too hot."

"Tomorrow?"

"You gotta work tomorrow."

"After work then."

Stubborn man.

"Fine but you gotta change outta your work clothes first."

"Deal!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blue jeans, white shirt  
> Walked into the room you know you made my eyes burn
> 
> visual inspiration ~ gorgeous art https://www.etsy.com/listing/182613561/pre-serum-steve-bucky?ref=market

Sweaty palms, heart hammering against a cage made of bone, the russeling of paper and the smell of Bucky's skin - it's hot and hes exhausted from working. He would taste like the first rainfall after a drought -

"You want me to draw you without a shirt on or you gonna go cover up?"

A trickle of sweat rolling down a muscled (but not overly so - just the way Steve likes) ribcage, eyes glistening in the afternoon sun, graceful fingers that could sketch a flower with ease and throw together a meal out of nothing at all splayed out on his thighs - nothing but off white boxers covering sparse skin - mouth watering, pulse picking up - _I'm going to die if you don't cover up already._

" 'is too hot to put on anything."

"Your ma isn't gonna like this."

"Then we won't show it to her."

Steve's heavy sigh as he relents - "Fine but it's on your head if she sees it."

Eros with his arrow aimed at Steve - Bucky's name tattooed on the tip - burrowing into his soul - _mark me._

"I'm gettin' older over here Steve." 

"Hush up already I can't draw you when you keep yapping."

"You already started? You shoulda told me."  _No._

Bucky stretching out on a battered sofa looking more serious than he has any right to, a breeze filtering through dirty windows - 

Steve's lower lip painfully bitten until he's sure it must be bleeding, graphite scratching against heavy paper (that Bucky surprised him with only last week) in the hush of the apartment - eyes traveling over a prominent collarbone and sweeping over a dusting of hair that leads to - a nearly blank page apparently.

_Focus. I can't._

One wide stroke forms his jawline with scruff from neglecting shaving for at least a couple of days, pink cupids bow lips parted, the bead of sweat on the hollow of his throat, each dark nipple -

Twenty agonizing minutes of trying to capture Bucky's essence on paper later -

"It's not much but..."

Bucky's shy grin - the rarest one, his hand grasping the paper firmly and...blushing? Is he blushing?

"You're gettin' better Stevie. Now you jus' gotta let me draw you, think my skills are gettin' rusty."

Steve catches a glimpse of his own work and is taken aback by the lazy sensual look in Bucky's eye as if he can read Steve's mind and knows all about the thoughts that keep him awake at night and make him hard enough to grit his teeth and bite back a moan as pictures play like a carousel in his mind - Bucky leaning against the windowpane watching fat drops of rain with his legs pulled up, Bucky brushing his teeth in the morning and fresh from the shower -

"Stevie?"

A worried voice that's expecting Steve to pass out from heat exhaustion or to succumb to a Summer cold -

"What?"

Bucky's puzzled expression as he scratches his forehead - "Coulda jus' told me you didn't want me to draw you. I don't like it when you do that, you know."

"When I do what?"

"Give me the silent treatment." 

Lips pouting, tense shoulders -

"Wasn't. I swear it. I was thinkin' is all."

"Must've been something real important."

_You. Always you._

"Nah." 

"So?"

Steve shrugs his shoulders - the sleeveless shirt slipping off of one - hot fingers on sensitive skin as Bucky slowly puts it back where it was and Steve didn't realize he'd been holding his breath until Bucky spread out like a starfish on the bed - he is the ocean.

"If you really wanna. Why'd you wanna draw me for?"

Disappointment blooming in beautiful eyes -

" 'cause you drew me, thought I'd return the favor." 

Standing and rocking back on bare heels - _he's lying._

"When?"

"Now?"

"But I'm sticky and gross."

"So am I, whats your point?"

_Don't remind me._

"My point is that -," the sound of Steve's notebook closing - hiding candid sketches of Bucky's body - the way his neck bends as he tips his head back - _taste. no._ His mouth hanging open when he's sleeping, his coffee cup in the sink, bunched up blankets on his bed - a unique fragrance that never fails to lure Steve in -

"Well?"

"I have a point," Steve says defiantly. He does - what was it?

"Point is I don't wanna look like a drowned rat from sweating."

"You're the farthest thing from that I swear it." 

Sincerity in his gaze - fondness, affection - he is telling the truth.

Mind gone completely blank - staring intensely at Bucky's chest and wondering how the hell one person could mean so damn much - it's terrifying.

"You're jus' bein' nice now." 

"When have you ever known me to fib? Not with you, Steve."

Little white lies tumbling off of rosy lips -

_'We didn't touch your pie, Grandma'_

_'Why_   wouldn't _we be able to pay the rent and art class? Easy - I got you covered.'_

 _'Mae is a swell girl, can't wait till you meet her. Shes gonna love you'_ [length of relationship: two dates]

 _'Steve's ma said he could stay over. I know it's a school night - we're gonna study is all.'_ [age 12 -staying up until the sun peeks in the sky and sitting with legs crossed and a feeling that Steve doesn't have a name for yet]

_"I don't mind taking another shift.'_

_'  'mm not tired, tell me about your day'_

_'Stacey McDermit frenched me today and let me touch her. She's soft curves and red lipstick and I think I'm in love.'_ [length of relationship: three double dates]

"Fine you can draw me but make me look halfway decent at least."

Heavy paper, pencil shavings - he would smell like them.

"Hmmm...over... _there."_

Bucky is pointing to the center of Steve's bed (as always neatly made) next to his -

The gates of heaven illuminated and reflecting - the sound of a heartbeat that's too far away right now -

Bucky's brow creased in concentration - ripples in the Sahara desert; layers of him, finding a four leaf clover in a sea of earthy green - pluck it from the earth and press into an old book - he is luck.

"Stop that."

A bossy voice carried over from childhood when Steve would ignore him after Bucky neglected him to play with Daniel or Gabriel on the playground -

"Stop what?"

"Thinking."

"Why?"

_keep talking - I don't care what topic it is. I'm not listening anyway._

" 'cause I hafta keep erasing - one minute you're dark and brooding and the next you practically glow. What're you thinkin' about anyway?"

Pencil smudges, lemonade tangy on Bucky's tongue as it slides down his throat; watching Bucky from the corner of his eye - 

"I'll think of baseball then."

"If that keeps you from ruining my sketch then alright." 

A baseball game, stadium hot dogs with mustard and sweet ketchup, cheap seats next to an older couple with graying hair as they squint at the field, Dodgers beating Phillies and a celebration hug - Bucky's breath hot on the shell of Steve's ear; _if I turn my head I can..._

Thirty minutes pass - Steve nearly dozes off to the faint sound of Bucky humming as he works - he is unspoken poetry - fragile love like the silky body of a moth when you long to stroke their velvety wings but hold off because if you get too close it might flutter away leaving only a chrysalis in its wake. He is strong where it counts, downy soft beneath the surface - a side that only Steve, and Bucky's ma is gifted with. 

"All done!"

Crisp paper breathing life into a gray and white Steve - soul alight with colors that only he brings out - Sol Invictus sits on his left shoulder -

"Don't hold out on me Steve. You can say it's trash, won't hurt my feelings none."  _he's lying again._

Hackles raising, blood pressure rising - protecting Bucky from himself -

"You insult me when you do that."

Big blue eyes heating with each flicker of Bucky's gaze - transparent love, a compass pointing the way home - North; him. He is losing your way and finding it in the crevices and mazes of each ivory bone hard under curious fingers at age sixteen when Steve registered that Bucky was his everything and he'd been searching for the right partner for far too long - she would be fine china, rationality and stubborn wit with rich brown hair; that woman would be irresistible but it felt like betrayal - like stepping away from a relationship that was unspoken but worth more than precious jewels . Bucky Barnes is his soulmate - he is four arms, four legs, and a single head made of two faces splitting in half; finding the one you were born to love before you even know what love is and by then it's too late.

Steve's face stares back from the drawing - pale skin and bones in white boxers that match Bucky's but smaller, blonde locks sweeping over a creased forehead and deep blue eyes that tell a story if Bucky would only turn the first page of it.

"I really like it."

Gaia spinning the earth like a top 'round and 'round - standing on the edge with hands intertwined -

"You don't hafta say that jus' 'cause you're my friend."

Friend; a person whom one knows and with whom one has a bond of mutual affection, typically exclusive of sexual or family relations - it runs deeper than that with still waters on the surface; turbulence like a hurricane underneath.

"Buck you know I'm not a liar."

"So it's good then?"

Eyebrows shooting skyward, a crooked grin -

Nod.

"You're the best pal a guy could ever ask for."

Arms spread wide, enveloping Steve in sticky body heat - blue pansies breaking through crumbling dirt and huddling together like every time is the last time.

"You'll change your tune soon enough 'cause it's your turn to do the dishes."

Bucky holding on for a minute too long with nose buried in Steve's neck - breath hot and wet - he is water bubbling over smooth stones in the Winter when all other living things are suspended in time.

He is wild lavender revolting against the stifling heat and parched ground daring to swim against the tide -

"Do my eyes really look like that?"

Lingers with no intention to move. He is studying Steve's work - wondering how long hes been giving Steve those bedroom eyes -

"I don't know I can't see it, you stuck it behind my head."   _we're both going to melt if you don't step back._

Slick bodies sticking to one another - bodies that know the other better than their own. The absence of heat as Bucky untangles and holds the sketch up for Steve to see -

Dark hooded eyes lazy and sensual stare back - suspended in thick honey for all time, a precious artifact to be protected at all costs.

"I drew what I saw. Did I mess up?"

Eager hands grasping at the edge of the paper - smudging a corner of Bucky's ear - "I'll fix it."

Meeting resistance - a futile attempt -

"No...not at all. When I get a better job we're gonna buy picture frames and hang these on the wall all proper - they're not meant to be hid away."

"We'll hang yours too Buck, right beside of mine," Steve says to Bucky's back as he wanders to the bedroom and returns empty handed - 

"That ain't fair and you know it."

"Bucky Barnes you quit that right now or that'll be the last time that I draw your ugly mug."

Embers in his eyes - blazing a hole through Steve's chest where the heat has soaked it with sweat -

"If I'm so ugly then why'd you draw me?," Bucky teases.

_'cause you're so goddamned beautiful that it makes my eyes hurt._

"Practice."

"Your contours and shading _are_ lacking lately - you can practice on me."

Images - Bucky's skin glistening in an acrid New York Summer, red roses in July, flowers blooming in the Spring, leaves crunching under heavy shoes in the Fall, the rush of adrenaline when Bucky teaches him how to fight - failing because Bucky is more interesting than the techniques - 

"On one condition."

"Name it."

"We wait 'till the sun goes down 'cause it's too hot otherwise."

"You got it."


	5. Bucky's POV [for the next 4 chapters]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'cause blue eyes  
> you are destiny's scene  
> 'cause blue eyes  
> I just wanna be the one  
> 'cause blue eyes  
> you're the secret I keep

Eyes shining impossibly blue - the sky in radiant hues too striking to be staring at scuffed wood flooring under pale feet -

An entire childhood spent stealing glances and hoarding them -

"I ain't gonna be gone that long. I'll be back 'fore you even start to notice I'm gone."

A trip to the next city over in search of a new job - guilt heavy in the pit of his stomach -

"I should be going." 

Stern expression - indented crease between his eyes when he's left behind - _Steve; eight_ _years old with watery  eyes and a firm grip on Bucky's hand as the teacher tenderly explains that there's no empty spaces in this class - puffing up his own chest and stepping in front of Steve - refusing to move until they called his ma. She took one look at Steve and insisted that they make room for him. They had._

"Don't be like that Steve; there's nothin' to do anyhow and I know you don't wanna wait around all day in a cheap hotel room."

Thin shoulders slumping in defeat -

"You'll call me when you get there?"

" 'course I will."

Three days without the only person hes ever really loved, he hasn't even left yet and already it feels like forever-

"Maybe you can go dancin' while you're there."

Slender fingers carefully folded in his lap, thin white t-shirt hanging on a slim frame - _Fourteen years old with Steve clutching his hand tight as another needle pierces his skin, the prickling of fear - please be okay please be okay please be okay - jaw set firmly with chin held high - I will not cry. Not here. Lifting Steve's palm to his lips and pressing a kiss when the nurses are gone; telling him memories that come flooding back - every single one of them including him. Steve being the strong one even as he was afraid - clear test results; the most beautiful words in the world. He will live._

"Ain't gonna have time for that."

Tracing alabaster skin and sharp hipbones with the tip of his finger - he is marble and beauty.

"At least I won't hafta hear your snoring."

Steve's attempt at humor to delay the obvious -

Delicate bones against a beaten down pillow, three blankets overtop until only his head is visible, strong hands built for art and sculpting curled in fists even in sleep and the smell of soap -

"And I won't hafta drink your sorry attempt at coffee."

Black coffee with a chipped cup set out by Steve the night before, scrawled note underneath - _since you're leavin' at 4am you need to stay awake. made you some coffee - be careful._

Palming the note and carrying it with him to work - a reminder of why he's taking a double shift -

"I gotta go. Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone."

Steve standing against the door frame last Spring with no shirt on - pants hanging off of bony hipbones - the urge to push him against it and kiss him until they're both breathless -

"How can I? You're takin' all the stupid with you."

Walking away and striding back - rushing into his arms and holding on tight - he is _home_. 

"Go on get outta here 'fore you're late." 

Stepping apart with Steve's name on his lips -

"Steve."

"I'll see you soon Buck."

A fading sunset, crater where his heart should be - throwing Steve's name into the abyss and coming up with the echo of his own voice -

 

****

Each night longer than the last - hotel room ice cold without him - the unfamiliar scent of lemon floor cleaner and starched sheets - walls bare -

Internal debate- _call him. what if hes sleeping? call him. I can't. call him. I need him._

11pm - a steady voice on the other end of the line, Steve at Mrs. Rosa's house with pale yellow phone cord tangled around his fingers nervously - _missing him like a phantom limb._

"Did you get the job?"

"Not this one but I'm gonna try for that place closer to home - tug boats."

"You comin' home then?"

"First thing tomorrow."

The feeling of dry beans sifting through fingers, finding the stars that Galileo searched for in the sound of his voice on the other end -

"I'll see you soon then. Mrs. Rosa isn't too happy with me right now; seems I woke her up but I had to...." 

_Finish it. Tell me you missed me as bad as I missed you - that you need me like the trees need sunshine  
_

"I had to check in with you."

_Liar._

"I'm alright. Tell my ma I'm comin' home."

Steve's grin a whole 'nother city away - soul knotted with his - _can you feel it too?_

"She'll be happy to hear that - came 'round yesterday wondering if you were back yet. Told her no and she brought me over a plate of beans and spoon bread."

Pulling aside his ma and pleading with her to  _make sure he eats somethin' he gets real dizzy if he doesn't and drop in on him every so often but not too much or he'll think you're pitying him -_ a reassuring pat on his back with eyes that know more than they let on - _I'll take care of him 'till you get back._

"Did you eat?"

"She made me; wouldn't leave 'till I ate it all and I got a belly ache after but I didn't tell her."

_Thanks ma._

"That's 'cause you're not used to eating that much - told you you need to eat more."

Heavy sighing on Steve's end - the sound of his perpetually uneven breathing - bones aching to touch him -

"I gotta go; shes givin' me a look and I think shes gonna make me sweep her porch again if I don't hang up."

Steve's laughter - laundry blowing in the wind, tangerines and vanilla - _Steve._

"Go get some sleep I'll be there 'fore you even wake up tomorrow."

"Yeah yeah yeah - if you say so. Night Buck."

"Night Steve."

Cradling the phone for longer than necessary - conjuring up his voice and collarbones that beg to be explored - _Jesus Barnes you got it bad._

 

****

5am, leaving four hours early just to arrive in time to wake him up - silently curling his body against Steve's on top of the covers and breathing in deep - he is a drug.

Sharp elbow jabbing against Bucky's torso - curious eyes fluttering open in realization - tracing fingers in circles over Bucky's naked back - tangerines and vanilla -

The first flutter of a butterflies wings rapidly expanding like the beat of Bucky's heart with every touch - rolling over to catch Steve off guard and encircling each delicate wrist - blue eyes wide and pink lips parted - he is honeysuckles in early Summer -

"I thought you were sleepin'. When'd you get in?"

_Say something._

"Few hours ago." _Little white lie._

"Shoulda woke me up."

Pulse reverberating against the pad of Bucky's thumb - stroking - crushed velvet and porcelain

"Didn't wanna."

The shape of Steve's body under mostly discarded covers - his shirt riding up in his sleep to reveal the smallest patch of skin - forcing himself to think about his grandma rather than taking what he wants and god does he ever want it -

"What's wrong with your bed?"

_it's not you._

"Yours was closer."

Steve considering this - knowing it's a lie - nodding his head in agreement none the less and wrenching his wrists free of Bucky's -

"How'd your trip go? Thought you'd be able to charm your way into a job with no problem."

The garden of Eden - biting down hard onto temptation and sucking the juices as they drip down his chin -

"I don't wanna talk about it."

Bleary blue eyes - a perfect set to Bucky's, flickering from Bucky's down to his lips and back up again -

Achilles falling in head first and coming up for air that tastes like sweet figs on Patroclus' mouth - the first temptation

Bridging the gap and brushing his lips against Steve's - his small gasp of surprise as he pulls back - searching for answers in Bucky's eyes; a whole lifetime of wishing and wanting -

Cold nose against Bucky's - breathing one another in - _time is measured in every second spent in his arms._

Free falling and landing on puffy clouds -

Hoarse whisper that Bucky hardly recognizes as his own voice - "I missed you."

Willowy arms snaking around Bucky's neck - hands like a vice -

"Missed you too."

Wet smacking kisses on cheekbones and soft lips - Steve's lips are sonnets written in the taste of his skin - Bucky tilting his head and curving a right hand around the base of his neck - every stroke of his tongue against Steve's are words they could never say - _I love you, God I missed you so bad that my teeth ached, Don't ever leave without me - I can't bare it._

He is the ever expanding galaxy - celestial starlight catching on the tip of Bucky's tongue like snowflakes -

The curve of his spine and its beautiful imperfection, every precious muscle and bone - the weight of his body straddling Bucky and igniting a fire in his bones - his hand [traveling](https://d.gr-assets.com/hostedimages/1431485003ra/14840599.gif) \- _been burning for you for as long as I can remember_

"Bucky..."  his name on Steve's lips - filthy and sinful - tongue sweeping across hyoid bone - _I'll die of this love._

"Missed....missed you..."

Steve's breath coming in puffs - the finest salt on every square inch - _lick. sample._

"Missed you...you got no idea."

Unguarded confessions - unpacking the box and letting love make herself known - wishing on a dandelion and trusting it with your secrets - _can you hear them? they're all for you._

Arms like thin bands of steel coming around a heated torso in a silent plea -  _don't ever leave me._

Three words floating in mid-air, too far to grasp - he is in every translation - _I love you and it's beyond words._

Nipping at his neck as he arches into it - forbidden fruit _-_ _nectar of the gods._

Hard as a rock under the weight of passion denied for too long - bending at the knees and giving thanks to every deity - he is sweetheart cherries with sea water - salty and sweet -

_don't rush a  good thing. that's how you lose him._

Abruptly jerking upright - Steve nearly tumbling off of the bed with bedsheets twisted around him - lips like pink wine - _I wanna get drunk on you._

"Buck?"

"I um...shower."

Freezing water on hot skin - replaying the touch of Steve's hand on a throbbing cock when it almost went too far - trembling - _I've never wanted anything but you - it all comes back to you._

Bathroom door bursting open with irritation - Steve ripping the shower curtain back - every angry curse dissolving as his eyes travel from clavicle bone to ankle - it's the sexiest thing Bucky has ever experienced - standing exposed in front of Steve as he caresses every shadowy corner without touching - _touch me._

Cheeks bright red, fists balled at his side and forcing himself to take deep breaths - so Bucky isn't the only one fighting urges -

"You can't jus'.... _kiss_ me like that and walk off without tellin' me why."

Mind goes blank - filling the missing pieces with memories of him -

_Coney Island - wondering what buttery popcorn tastes like on his lips_

_Spending the night on couch cushions with the other half of the moon across from him - too far away_

_Stealing blueberry pie from his grandmothers kitchen - age 18 - purposely dropping filling on narrow shoulder blades and running his fingers over them - sucking them dry after - pinning Steve's gaze the entire time and daring him to come undone_

_Water droplets collecting on the nape of Steve's neck after a hot shower - cheeks flushed with color and hes never been more gorgeous  
_

THINK. No, not _that._

 _"_ What if you don't want this?"

face falling under the yellow light of the bathroom - _no no no don't do that._

 _"_ Maybe I do."

Racehorses galloping to the finish line - he is the prize.

Self consciously turning his back to Steve - "I'm no good for you Stevie. You don't see it now but you will."

The wrinkle between Steve's eyes is back - _wanna press my thumb to it and smooth it out - never wanted to be the one to make you look like that. smile - it's too dark and gloomy without it._

 _"_ i can make my own decisions you know."

Barely reigned in temper, furiously blowing hair off of his forehead - steam surrounding him and fogging up the mirror -

"You don't always make good ones."

Castles spent decades building crumbling to ruins -

"I chose you didn't I?"

"Exactly."

"You're an idiot." 

Freezing shower - body igniting as Steve reaches in and drags him down for a passionate kiss - the slow rhythmic stroke of his tongue making Bucky weak in the knees - wobbling slightly when he releases -

"You're the _best_ decision I've ever made, you jerk."

Speechless - gaping back with mouth parted and red from his kisses - remembering

_Gonna write you a letter...kiss._

_Honey._

Bucky understands.  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen ~ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zSdYgUtvens


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> meeting you was fate

Knobby knees bleeding and scraped - chin likely bruising on the inside, hes nothing more than skin and bones -

"Hey! Why don't you pick on someone your own size!"

Bucky Barnes - nine years old; shielding a scrawny dirty blonde with at least three missing baby teeth as the bully takes off running in the other direction -

"Yeah you better run!"

Turning just in time for a poorly executed punch - narrowly avoiding-

"You wanna go? I could do this all day!"

Tiny fists locked into position - the biggest blue eyes Bucky has ever saw - his chest suddenly feels heavier and it's like nothing hes ever experienced -

"I'm not gonna fight you. 'names James Barnes but everyone calls me Bucky."

Hand extended because manners are important and ma says you catch more flies with honey than vinegar and this one is no fly but he's definitely something Bucky wants to capture.

"Steven Rogers - Steve."

_Steve._

Orange wildflowers growing on the side of the road - wild and free; take one and spare the rest - love it until it wilts. Bucky's world painted in shades of orange like the taste of tangerines dribbling down his chin - this one shines a little brighter.

"Wanna come over to my house Steve? My ma is making peanut butter cookies - she won't mind."  _I'll even let you have my half if you stay._

Steve's eyes light up at the promise of a treat - his stomach is rumbling and he can't remember eating anything that's not a cold sandwich - his ma is a nurse and shes gone more often than shes home.

"Sure she won't get mad?"

Bucky scoffs - his ma is the _best_ and she'd never ever turn away a buddy.

Friend.

He tries out the word and likes the way it fits just right - Steve is my pal.

"That's jus' silly. Race you there!"

Fear and worry in Steve's eyes -

"What's wrong?"

"Can't run."

" 'is okay I can't either - takes me forever to get where I'm goin'. "

"That's not it."

"Are you sick? 'Cause we got medicine if you need any."  _I'll take care of you, you'll see and I'll be the very best at it._

"Sometimes my lungs don't wanna work right and if I run too fast it feels like I'm a goldfish on dirt." 

Mind registering this new information - medicine will not cure this. 

"We'll walk then. It's no big deal." 

Steve is as quiet as a church mouse so Bucky takes reign of the conversation - babbles about his baby sister and how she steals his marbles, how good his ma is at baking and 'She promised to teach me someday, we'll have peanut butter cookies everyday', how he makes forts out of couch cushions and strings popcorn on the tree at Christmas -

Narrow apartment steps - putting Steve in front of him - _just in case he can't breathe - I'll catch him._

"Ma I'm home!"

Bucky's ma rounds the corner with a smile that looks just like his own and a plate of fresh cookies - the smell of peanut butter and a faded apron tied around her waist -

Steve self consciously rubs at a bruise and shyly stares at the black and white checkered floor of the kitchen -

"This is Steve Rogers; hes my pal!" _we're gonna be best friends forever._

"It's nice to meet you Steve, my name is Winifred."

"Pleased to meet you, ma'am."

Steve's voice timid and barely above a whisper -

"I'm going to set these on the kitchen table so you boys can enjoy them but first lets take a look at that lip."

Nervously perching on the edge of his chair, watching as his ma carefully dabs at Steve's lip and rubs ointment on it.

"Is he gonna be okay?"

A caring hand cards through his hair - auburn like his mothers - "He'll be fine. Give it a few days to heal and Steve - don't lick the ointment off."

Steve nods.

"Can we go play now?"

Eagerly rocking back on his heels, the clinical smell of the first aid kit, Steve testing the cut with his finger -

"You're not 'sposed to pick at it."

Steve continues to prod the area. Lesson learned - Steve Rogers does whatever he wants.

"You're free, go on. Bucky's room is down the hall on the right but try to play quietly because his daddy is asleep."

A pale face nods - "Yes ma'am."

 

"You like baseball? I got a ball and a mitt for Christmas last year. Lets see if your hands' as big as mine is to see if it'll fit."

Apprehensive blue eyes stare back for a moment before Steve puts his hand against Bucky's -

Palm to palm - _he makes me want to grin until my face hurts._

"That's about right."

"I don't know how to play baseball but I hear it on the radio sometimes."

"I'll teach you but not today 'cause we gotta go to the park for that and ma says it might rain. Wanna come over tomorrow after school? What school do you go to? Do you know Ms Mason?"

Excited rambling as Steve looks confused -

"Great Oaks."

He ignores the other question.

"Me too!"

Worn baseball mitt on fair skin, the sun beating down on their foreheads, the crack of a ball against solid wood, baseball games with a home run and chili dogs - _he's gonna love it and maybe it'll even make him smile._

"Ma can talk to the teacher and see if they can put you in the same class as me so's we don't hafta be apart."

This - this is how to make him grin and he's beaming like sunlight reflecting off of fresh snow. _Note to self: make him do that more often._

"Yeah?"

"Ma's friends with everyone at school - she can help us."

His face reminds Bucky of fireworks - the 4th of July in vibrant colors - he's not like Joan or Curtis - they don't make the whole room shine.

"We're gonna be the bestest of friends I can feel it. Nobody will hurt you when I'm around, I'll make sure of it."

Blue-green eyes peek through a fringe of blonde bangs with a bashful grin - "Really? Don't really have any friends."

"You got me."

_'till the end._


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sometimes home isn’t four walls. it’s two eyes and a heartbeat and baby you're mine.

"Mornin' sleepyhead - or should I say afternoon? It's 2pm."

Steve's voice in his ear, a quick smacking kiss to his lips, two bodies crammed together on Steve's small bed - wrinkled sheets on his side, pillow hanging off of the edge, three thick blankets - the morning after spending an entire night kissing and touching but not crossing that line yet -

" 'mm not awake yet, go 'way."

Elbows and knees knocking against one another - Steve flopping unceremoniously onto him and grinning against his ear; head resting on Bucky's back -

 _They're thirteen years old when Steve launches himself against Bucky as he bends to pick up a magazine and clings to him like a monkey; giggles against his skin - Bucky reaches back to hold onto him as he stands -_ _ivy intertwining itself into every space in Bucky's heart and life -_

" 'mm not about to let you sleep the day away."

Dazzling daylight filtering through an open window - Mrs Rosa arguing with her husband and the squeals of children playing in the street -

"I got no plans," muffled refusal - a whisper in his ear that gives him goosebumps -

"Can't kiss you if you're sleepin'. "

Tangerines, vanilla, heart swelling in his chest - _love._

Momentary panic - "Did you lock the door?"

"Don't I always?"

Yes - but now there is the risk of exposure -

_Fourteen years old with Lucy's eager lips - plump like berries in the Summer - pressed against his own. Hand cradling the back of her head - blonde curls and gray blue eyes - kissing clumsily and excitedly thinking about rushing home to tell Steve - Steve with angular cheekbones, just the right height for tucking under his chin, flaxen hair that smells like honeysuckles...Lucy abruptly ending the embrace and finding that he didn't mind at all. Wishing like hell that she was him and the thought terrifying him - _

"Then what are we waitin' for?"

Reaching a hand around and pushing Steve against the mattress - blankets winding around his legs - impatiently kicking them to the side -

"Nah not yet - you gotta go brush your teeth."

Bucky groans and buries his face in the crook of Steve's neck - grazing the sensitive area with the tip of his tongue and grinning - _Steve. I'm kissing Steve. _

"Nuh-uh that's not gonna work - _off_."

Bossy.

Wintergreen on Bucky's teeth and gums _-_ sneaking into the kitchen and nestling up against sharp shoulder blades -

_Pie filling dropping onto Steve's skin - scraping it off and watching Steve's wide eyes as Bucky sucks it off of his own finger -_

"This good enough?"

Nuzzling Steve's neck as he washes dishes and nearly drops a glass - _how the hell did I get so goddamned lucky? my best friend and love of my life all in one -_

" 'mm not sure. I'm gonna need more proof than..."

Bite gently - taste.

"...than that."

Knocking Steve speechless -

Searching a crowded field for his face -

_Age 15._

_"I gotta baseball game tonight - you should come."  
_

_"Can't."_

_"Ma can drive you there if that's the problem."_

_"That ain't it."_

_"Then whats wrong?"_

_"Don't you want Suzy there instead? I'm no dame Buck."_

Goddamn right you're not and I like it that way -

_"Suzy isn't my best friend. You are. Please."_

Best friend - a person's closest friend - no. Steve is more than that.

_"I got plans."_

_"Since when Steve?"_ Why wasn't I invited?

_"Since now, alright?"_

Steve's shoulders tense and eyes shifty - _he's lying._

_"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow then."  
_

_****_

A skinny figure hunched over a sketch pad - Suzy at one end of the bleachers and Steve at the other - _he came._

 _Is he okay?_   "Strike one!"  _Shit._

 _Is he mad at me?_ "STRIKE TWO!"

 _He's not even looking at me_ \- "STRIKE THREE! YOU'RE OUT!"

_I don't even care._

"Barnes! The game isn't over yet - get back over here with the other boys!," sharp commanding tone of a coach with a hawk like nose and narrowed eyes -

_Ignore him._

_Steve._

Climbing the steps one by one until he jumps in surprise - lost in his own world again - sketchbook tumbling from his lap - _he was drawing me. _

Shocked expression on his face before cutting to Bucky's chest - _don't say anything._

 _"Lets go get some ice-cream."_ Nudging Steve's shoulder roughly - _'I ain't made of glass Buck.'_

_"What about Suzy and your game?"_

_"I'll catch up with her later, come on."_ Little white lies.

_"Thought you were playin' today?"_

_"Nah. Three strikes. Doesn't matter anyhow - I'm starvin' and it's about a hundred degrees. You're gonna get a sunburn."_

Steve collecting his pencil and sketchpad - Bucky following close behind - a habit leftover from Steve's many illnesses and asthma and a promise made to Steve's ma - _keep him out of trouble for me will you?  'Yes ma'am. I'll keep him safe.'_

_"Fine if it makes you stop motherin' me."_

Creamy vanilla ice cream melting on Steve's lip - _the sweetest temptation._

*****

" 'mm gonna kiss you everyday 'till you get tired of it and I might even do it then," Bucky grins as he moves onto his favorite spot - Steve's clavicle bone -

It feels surreal - it's not unusual to wake up to Steve's voice but it's never that low - not unless hes sick but he isn't. For once Bucky has an illness that he doesn't want to get rid of - an ailment that society deems as wrong and corrupt, disgusting and going against human nature - _I'll break every damn law in the book if it means loving him._

"Prove it."  Mischief in Steve's tone - whirling around in Bucky's arms and the whole room coming alive -

"Sure you still want this?"

_Say yes.  
_

An answer in the form of petal soft lips blooming under his own - the blunt edge of a kitchen table against his leg, Steve's hands gripping Bucky's bare waist because they can do that now - clothes are optional. _Strip me down and eat the world raw._

"That answer your question?"

_No._

_Need more of you._

"Nope." 

Steve's teeth biting down onto Bucky's bottom lip - not hard enough to hurt but enough to make him moan -

"I'll show you then." 

Body stretching and bending - arching and trembling against a the curve his hand, his hipbones, his everything -  _mark me._

Touching for the first time - a feast laid out before him - struggling to find the words to say - _I'm yours, I'm yours, I'm yours. Always._ _  
_

Sticky bodies collapsing against one another afterward with hands intertwined and hearts pounding out the words _I love you. Every jagged edge and dark side; every freckle; every part of you that unfolds under my hands and only I get to touch, to bite, to lick, to suck._

**

_Age 16, going all the way with Rosalie from English class - lush curves and the waxy taste of lipstick - finally realizing what all the other boys were raving about. Feeling like a the biggest jerk afterward and walking her home. Avoiding Steve the next day - guilt like lead in his gut._

Steve refusing to meet his eyes and nodding _\- "Rosalie huh? You like her?"_

_"Shes real pretty but we're not going steady or anything like that. Don't take it so hard Stevie we'll find you a good girl who'll treat you right. How 'bout I set us up a double date huh?"  
_

Steve breathing in deep through his nose and noisily exhaling - _"I don't need your pity Buck. I'll find a girl someday; I jus' want the right one is all."_

_A knife to the chest - of course he wants a dame and that's why he looks like that when I find one for myself; not because he feels..._

_"One date is all I'm askin'. I'm not askin' for the moon."_  

_Already got that - it's you._

Steve relenting _-_ " _On one condition - I get to pick the place 'cause you know I can't dance."_

Double date cut short by Steve's hacking cough - apologizing and all but carrying him back to his (Bucky's) ma'sand hoping like hell that he'd be okay.  _I should've listened to him._

Steve's rattling chest, expensive medication, missing Steve's ma like crazy because she'd know what to do - one month of working overtime to purchase medication ( _'You don't hafta do that Buck.'  'I'm not gonna lose you 'cause of your stubborn pride Steve')_ and rushing home to him (a tiny spare room at the Barnes' household) every night.

_'I'll take real good care of him Mrs. Rogers, you'll see.'_

***

Past fading into the present - staring at Steve's chest (his heart) as he sleeps, head resting against Bucky's chest - _don't ever die on me, not unless you plan on taking me with you._


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'cause blue eyes  
> you don't know the greatness you are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how did they end up moving in together you ask? love will always find a way. [flashback]

**1941- one day after Steve's mothers funeral**

Overcooked scrambled eggs sticking to the pan, dirty dishes, Steve losing his ma three days prior - their apartment in muted browns -

"Kinda cooked 'um too long but they're not chewy or anything."

Steve's desolate expression as he eyes the plate -

"You don't hafta do this Buck. Told you I can take care of myself."

"Jus' wanted to visit you is all. You're my best guy."

A spark of light in a dark hallway - glimmering hope in his eye -

"Did you make any for yourself?"

Empty egg carton, stomach growling - _take care of him. _

"I'm not hungry."

"I can't eat all this myself and I'm not gonna unless you eat some too."

Jaw stubbornly set, fork untouched next to the plate as Steve retrieves another one -

"You're impossible you know that?"

_don't ever change._

Steve's shrug, the weight on Bucky's chest lessening with every bite Steve takes - remembering -

_Nine years old sitting by a hospital bed as Steve sleeps - an I.V. in his vein and surrounded by a croup tent that Bucky isn't allowed to enter._

_Pressing his hand against the side with Steve's when he wakes - celebrating what felt like ages after when he got better and sharing more than half of his frozen custard with Steve because he's looking more frail with every passing day -  
_

"I was gonna ask....," Bucky begins. _move in with me. stay with me. let me keep you safe._

"I know what you're gonna say, Buck." 

Empty plate, empty eyes -

"It's too quiet at my place," Bucky complains. _come over and bang on all of the pans for all I care._

"Put on the radio then."

"Tried that, isn't the same."

"I'm fine right where I'm at, Buck."

"Okay."

******

  **two weeks after the funeral**

Art class - the smell of turpentine and paint - smudge of blue on Steve's cheek

"You got somethin' right _here."_

Playfully smearing the paint as Steve's hand swats his own away - slick paint against cheekbones

"Yeah? So do you."

Steve bouncing back to life for a moment as he dodges Bucky's finger jabbing at him with paint on the tip and smearing bright blue across his forehead - _we match._

"Barnes, Rogers. Pay attention!" 

Graying hair with tight spiral curls, sharp green eyes and a glare that says Mrs Dover means business -

The classroom growing quiet and staring at two grown men with unfinished canvas' and paint on their faces - Bucky bites back a laugh that bubbles up in his throat as Steve takes on a serious look - it looks ridiculous and out of place given his current predicament -

"Class is now over; Barnes and Rogers. See me."

_Dammit._

Students filing out - trudging up to the teacher and waiting to be scolded -

"If the two of you aren't going to take this class seriously then I suggest you move along."

Steve's guilty face as he scrubs at the paint -

"I'm sorry ma'am."

Wrinkled face softening - she knows all about Steve's loss and how the two of them are struggling with money -

"Don't let it happen again. How are you coming along Steven?"

Steve does not speak - he isn't good at putting his feelings to words or opening up for that matter - _only to me._

"I'm takin' good care of him."

Steve balls his hands into fists - _I said the wrong thing again._

" 'course hes keepin' me on my toes too."

Steve's hands unclenching -

Her eyes dart from one to the other as she gives an understanding smile - "I'm glad that the two of you have one another then."

_me too lady, me too._

"Leave the hijinks at home though."

"Yes ma'am."

"You can go now."

Blue paint drying on Steve's face, smile long gone -

"You wanna go back to my place?"  _please._

"Nah."

"Jus' for tonight?"

"Kinda wanna be alone."

Bucky shakes his head - follows behind Steve and is grateful that he can't see his pained expression - _why is it so damn hard to let me love you?_

"Alright. Well lemme walk you home at least."

"Okay." 

 

***

**four weeks after the funeral**

Sweat, old shoes, Steve's drenched sleeveless shirt -

"If you wanna use a punching bag you gotta wrap your hands first. Here - let me."

Steve's hands cradled in his own - carefully wrapping each one and holding on longer than necessary -

"That'll do it."

Steve's face contorted in anger as he pummels a punching bag with all of his strength -

"Like this."

Stepping behind him to correct his positioning - salt, sweat, tangerines and vanilla - _need you._

Regretfully moving away - finding excuses to collect touches like baskets of flowers at the market -

Four hours watching Steve grieve in the only way he knows how - Bucky sitting on a hard bench after running out of energy -

The sky growing dark outside with stars alight on the way back to Steve's apartment -

"You're gettin' better at punching." 

Steve staring at his own feet as he walks, jacket zipped up to his neck to brace against the chilly night air -

"Thought I'd stay with you tonight since it's so late," Bucky says and aims for a careless tone - _I care too much. that's the problem._

"Where you gonna sleep?"

Steve's twin bed shoved up against a wall and another closeby, sofa dingy and falling to pieces -

"The other bed 'side of you."

"You don't have to."

"When have you ever known me to do somethin' I don't wanna do?"

Steve's relief obvious - Bucky's heart doing a flip flop in his chest - _progress._

Waking up to Steve peacefully sleeping in the bed across from him - mouth slightly agape and bedhead - _beautiful. mine._

Cold coffee, more of Bucky's overcooked scrambled eggs, sitting across from him - _this is how it would be._

"If you moved in with me we wouldn't hafta walk that far to get to the gym it'd be-"

This earns him a grumpy scowl.

"Buck..."

"I know...I know." _you don't want me._

"Alright Stevie." 

 

****

**five weeks, one day**

Steve patting his jacket and trousers for his apartment key, retrieving it from under a rock and passing it to him - discussing anything but living arrangements on the walk there from the store - a jar of peanut butter, half gallon of milk, cheap sliced bread -

A chipped and worn kitchen table - too many memories revolving around it -

 _"It's gonna hurt if you flinch so don't move okay?"_ Bandaging a deep gash on Steve's knuckles - age 17 

 _"My ma taught me how to make these. You're gonna love 'um. They're called[potato floddies](https://1940sexperiment.wordpress.com/2010/02/21/potato-floddies/). You shred up some potatoes, mix in some flour and salt then fry 'um in butter."  -_ Cooking for Steve - sitting in worn wooden chairs when his ma had another late shift at the hospital - age 18 _  
_

_"Now make a wish!"_ -Steve's 9th birthday - vanilla cake with [honey butter frosting](http://pzrservices.typepad.com/vintagerecipes/1940s-recipes/) baked by Steve's ma and nine candles alight -

The table is now empty with Steve in the other room - _cold._

Two slices of bread each smeared with smooth peanut butter and a sprinkle of cinnamon - Steve's favorite - the table doesn't feel right - purposely sitting close enough to Steve on the sofa 'till their thighs are pressed against one another - he would taste spicy and sweet.

"Thanks Buck."

There are moments like this where Steve makes his breath catch in his throat - a simple sandwich and Steve acts like it's the most wonderful thing.

" 'welcome."

"Come live with me."

Blurted out words that came out entirely too clear - _damn._

"Buck."

"We can pull out the couch cushions like when we were kids. All you gotta do is take out the trash and maybe shine -" 

Bucky's careful facade dropping - _can't pretend like I'm not miserable on the inside anymore_

"my shoes."

Steve stares back fondly before turning to his sandwich and taking a large bite - _you're so good at avoiding answers, steve. the best._

"I can make it on my own."

Steve's forehead creasing, tensing beside of Bucky -

Bucky shakes his head in frustration - a mixture of pain that Steve could ever imagine a life without him in it 'cause he could never live without Steve - and irritation. Never at Steve - bitter that the world has beaten him down until he feels like every sign of affection is an insult -

"Thing is...you don't have to."

Bucky's sandwich partially eaten and neglected on the sofa, eyes pinning Steve's -

" 'cause I'm with you 'till the end of the line pal."

_I'm with you until death itself tears us apart and even then I will find you. not going to leave without you. This is the only vow I'll ever take for as long as I live._

Steve's eyes are Christmas lights illuminating a path straight to Bucky's heart -

Reaching out and taking what you want - gripping Steve's shoulder a little too hard to drive the point home and barely holding back the urge to pull him into a tight embrace - _this is how much I love you._

"Yeah, okay...I'll do it."

"You mean it?" 

"If it'll get you to stop asking, yeah."

Bucky feels like the heavens have looked down upon him, saw his worry and changed Steve's mind for the better -

"We'll start packin' tomorrow and have you in 'fore nightfall."

He cannot contain the excitement in his chest -  _you're my person._

He imagines how their life will unfold -

Steve making coffee strong enough that it can walk so Bucky doesn't fall asleep when hes working the nightshift

Dragging Steve on dates and to attractions and knowing they'll return _home_ together

Lying around sketching one another and proudly displaying them on the wall

Arguing over who used the last of the hot water

Smearing paint on Steve once more and allowing his fingers to glide along his body - safe places so Steve will never know how he feels and what he wants - _you._

Taking in the faint twinkling of stars on the fire escape - pointing out constellations and secretly naming one after Steve because _god. if you only knew. you're not only my moon and sun - you're the whole goddamn galaxy._

 

They will sculpt a cozy cocoon made of Sarah Rogers table _('I don't know why you wanna lug this old table with us.'  'Just 'cause.'),_ bitter coffee, clothes drying on a line strung from one apartment building to the other, Steve's bed  _('The bed too?'  'Where you gonna sleep if we don't bring it?'  'Sofa...I guess. I don't know.'  'We're takin' the bed Steve.') ,_ too many cheap peanut butter sandwiches, late nights with Bucky away working and tea candles casting a warm glow on the room when the electric goes out as it does nearly every time there's a bad storm be it thunderstorm or heavy snowfall (rare, that last one). 

"Okay Buck. I'll move in with you."

Five words that slide together like tectonic plates - colliding and causing the ground to shake around them - _the best words._


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I dreamed that I lost you

**Steve's POV**

"Love you... _*hiccup*_ Stevie"

Overcrowded bar, the smell of stale beer and the weight of Bucky's hand resting on his arm-

"Buck, can't do that here."

A small sound of protest against Bucky's lips as he pulls back and finishes his drink - whiskey on the rocks

"Don't know why you wanna come here for. We could've did this at home."

The strong scent of a woman's perfume as she saunters up to their table - blonde curls and curves -

"How about you dance with me, sugar?"

Bucky's grunt of surprise, the slosh of his drink on the table, chewing gum popping in her mouth -

"Better not, I've _*hiccup*_ had a lot...lotta drinks."

"I don't mind. I've been with sloppy dancers before."

Her sly wink and slow grin - she's bold and unrelenting -

" 'sok Buck. You wanna dance you can."

Resisting the urge to snap at her, jaw clamped shut and shoulders tense - _back off._

Bucky gives in - "Jus' once. Can't turn a pretty lady away can I?"

He's in full charm mode now as she takes his hand and leads him to another room to dance - _can't say I blame her for trying to snatch him up but this one is **mine**._

Steve orders hard liquor despite the fact that he knows he can't handle it. If it burns a hole through this feeling then it's worth it.

Two large gulps in - liquid heat - _regret._

Bucky's glass abandoned, his stool empty, missing him already - _you're a lost cause Rogers. anything ever happens to him you're a goner for sure._

 

He stumbles back in without her and a sloppy grin on his face -

"Why you grinnin'?"

" 'member how you never could get a dance partner 'cause you stepped on toes?"

"You didn't..."

"Jus' twice is all."

A ridiculous feeling of elation and pride in Steve's chest - _you did that for me._

"Never can tell what you're _*hiccup*_ gonna do next Buck."

"But you like it 'cause I can charm the pants right off of you."

He winks and props his elbows up on the table; all glassy eyes and red lips; _coming undone. gorgeous._

"Maybe."

"Aw come on admit it...you _*hiccup*_ like it."

Bucky nudges Steve's shoulder, grabs on tight and squeezes - his way of saying _I'm crazy over you_ when they're in public and it isn't safe.

"Got me there."

Bucky grins as hard as he can and for a moment Steve can't breathe - the noise and low lighting of the bar slips away and all that remains is _him._

Stomach burning from the alcohol, head light and dizzy, feeling ridiculously head over heels in love -

"Buck...BuckyBarnes...Buck....hey..."

Latching onto Bucky's jacket sleeve to get his attention -

" 'mm right here buddy."

"Comm'ere I gotta _*hiccup*_ tell you somethin'."

Bucky's breath hot against his ear, hair tickling as it brushes along his cheek and hes almost close enough to kiss -

Hushed whispering- knowing he's feeling the same-

"Listen...listen...love  _you_ Buck."

Oops. An entire childhood and half a lifetime together but never uttering those words -

Bucky's laugh low and laced with booze -

"Been wonderin' if you'd ever get 'round to tellin' me."

Steve's sharp gasp and lurching back as if hes been burned -

"You _knew_? Why... _*hiccup*_ why'd you not tell _me?_ "

" 'cause thats weird Stevie even for you." 

Bucky's voice going higher pitched as he pokes fun - "Hiya Stevie jus' gonna letchu know that 'chu love me and you're too chicken to say it so I said it for you."

It does sound ridiculous.

"Yeah? Well how 'bout you Mr. I'm Gunna Oogle the ladies and _*hiccup*_ leave my bes' friend waiting."

"I stomped on toes for you."

True.

"You love me, Buck?"

Head spinning - the ceiling and the floor are switching places - better tell Bucky so he doesn't fall. _feels like we've been here before only...different._

"Wait...wait hold onto me...don't wantchu to fall off."

"I ain't that drunk Stevie - not gonna slide off my stool."

_Hold onto him - can't let him go._

Tight grip on his hand until he protests -

"Ow! Why you doin' that for?"

"Don't let go...I can't...please don't fall...Buck...no..."

Stomach churning with fear and a lack of food before consuming alcohol that clearly wasn't the best decision hes ever made -

" 'mm okay. Lets getchu home, k?"

Legs feel like noodles - _do we have any noodles at home?  ceiling. floor. don't let go._

"Hold...hold on."

Stumbling out into the cold night hair with Bucky slinging an arm around his shoulders as the ground begins to become more stable but not enough to release the death grip Steve has on Bucky's torso -

"You're scarin' me. What'd you drink anyhow?"

"Don't remember - brown fire."

"Ohhh. Can't leave you for a second can I?"

_please don't._

" 'mm not a baby, Buck."

"Never said you were."

Shoes slapping against the pavement, brisk wind whipping across chapped cheeks and lips, thin jacket - shivering

Bucky wordlessly removing his own jacket and zipping it up over Steve - lavender.  _Bucky._

"You're gonna get c-cold B-Buck."

Teeth chattering, missing the weight of his arms -

"Nuh-uh 'mm warm enough and we're almost home."

Two more blocks - the sound of a key inside of a wooden door - _home. ours._

"Stay here, 'gonna make some coffee."

Bucky's hands shoving him down onto the sofa, flopping over as soon as he's out of the room - _sleep._

"Steve. Wake up."

Coffee, lavender, a soft blanket and him -

"Drink this."

Hands curled around a warm mug, acrid coffee that might as well be sludge -

Bucky's leg warm against his own, shoulders brushing - _missed touching you._

"You're so good....so good to me Buck. When...? Can't 'member when you were ever...not....not mine."

It's not poetry - rather it's clumsily strung together words - he will understand.

"That's 'cause I've always been yours."

Hot apple cider in the Fall, the first warm day of Spring, Christmas with him - _cozy. safe._

"Come'ere. Missed touchin' you."

Mug removed and replaced by Bucky's hands - intertwined as he presses a soft kiss to each knuckle

"Wantchu to..."  Steve points to his lips, the words just don't seem to cooperate -

Wet lips sliding against his own, alcohol on Bucky's tongue, body tingling all over - _hope I never get used to this._

"Touch."

Steve tugs Bucky's shirt up over his head and runs his fingers everywhere he can reach - Bucky leans forward and sucks purple marks on his neck - _god yes._

The room spins once more as Bucky shifts - falling...

Gasping against lips red from kissing - "I'll catch you! DON'T LET GO!"

Bucky's forehead crinkling, arms encircling Steve's body - a trail of wetness down each of Steve's cheeks -

"Hey...hey...no. 'mm okay. Promise. The farthest 'mm gonna fall is off the couch. Might hit my head on the way down but we're alright aren't we?"

His thumbs brushing away tears - fingers made of velvet

"Guess so. I jus'...I don't know."  _can't explain it. maybe I lost you in some other life like Jacklyn down the street talks about._ _  
_

"No more of that alcohol for you."

The pad of Bucky's finger rubbing against the crease in between Steve's eyes -  _ma always called it my worry spot._

"Lets get you to bed and I'll stay right there with you. You know I'm not goin' anywhere right?"

Bucky hooking a thumb under Steve's chin and lifting it up, meeting beautiful baby blues -

Nod.

"Love you Stevie, always will. They'll hafta drag me away from you 'cause I'm never leavin'. "

Words registering -  _love. he loves me. LOVES._

Memories - Bucky in every single one, Bucky stealing glances when they were on a double date & he always thought he was being sneaky, Bucky's tight hugs long before that first kiss, Bucky giving him the last slice of bread ('I'm not hungry, you have it.'), Bucky going after bullies from the very first day ** _._**

**_LOVE._ **


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I will love you unconditionally  
> there is no fear now  
> let go and just be free  
> I will love you unconditionally

**Bucky's POV**

Stagnant water, splinters, the threat of rain overhead, double shift - worth it to make sure Steve has a roof over his head

"Hows the lil lady Barnes?"

Lou wipes sweat from his brow and straightens to a standing position - he towers over Bucky at 6'2 and is all brawn and muscle with a bald head; tattered hat always atop it. For all outward appearances he's a burly man who could really rough a person up but he's a big softy on the inside.

Most of all he's someone to talk to when the hours drag on and on. He knows all about a petite blonde haired blue eyed 'lady' (because Bucky has to cover his bases) who has a spine made of brass and a mouth to match - it's all Bucky talks about.

Bucky grins at the thought of Steve's irritation at being called a dame - "Doin' great Lou. Think we'll go out dancin' sometime."  _at our apartment because I can't risk Steve getting hurt. it's not uncommon for one man to teach another to dance but it's taboo for them to shun female dancers in lieu of one another._

"Betty says you should drop by sometime for dinner so we can meet her."

Lou has his back to Bucky and misses the look of shock and fear on his face.

"She's not much for talkin' to people."   _he's too damn feisty to hold a conversation with anyone other than me 'cause I can meet him match for match.  
_

"Bet she'll talk when she tastes Betty's liver loaf; haven't met a soul yet that doesn't ask for seconds."

Lou beams whenever he speaks of Betty - as if she's the only person in the world that can make his heart thump louder in his chest and surge him forward on double shifts. Bucky can relate all too well. Steve has always been that person for him.

"Tell you what Lou I'll ask her when I get home tonight & I'll let you know."

"Lemme tell you what my Betty did the other night; damn near made me crazy. Came home af'er workin' all day to find her dustin' the shelves in her best dress so I put on a record - that Kitty Kallen that shes mad over and we danced all 'round the living room 'till we got dizzy. My mama always said that love was about the little things and I'd hafta agree with her. You & Sally ever do that?"

Sally?

Oh. _Steve_.

"Few times, yeah but she's not a good dancer, always stompin' on my toes and I tried to teach her but she just got distracted and well...never got 'round to it."

Distracted - that was a nice way of putting 'I dragged him to the bedroom and licked every inch of his body 'cause I can't handle the way his hipbones cradle the palms of my hand and the feeling of his breath on my ear.'

_Fuck. Stop thinking about it._

"My Betty could dance the shoes right offa anyone. When we first met I couldn't work up the nerve 'ta ask her so she asked me first and I knew it then - I loved her."

Bucky recalls urging Steve to dance when they'd went out on double dates (ages ago) and how he'd shied away with the excuse that he couldn't dance. It was the truth but Bucky knew that it wasn't just that. He didn't even _want_ to dance - always mumbled something about waiting for his right partner. It had taken over a year for Bucky to figure out that _he_ was who Steve had been waiting for and he'd felt like a fool for missing the obvious.

Love was sneaky like that.

Lou glances at his watch - it's stained from many a night working and the glass on the front is nearly cracked but he says Betty bought it for him on their first anniversary and so he only removes it when he showers.

"You're concentratin' awfully hard over there. My shifts over now, think 'bout what I said and lemme know."

Think about it? I never stop.

"Alright Lou, have a good one!"

Lou jerks his head in farewell and strides away - the man is massive but he always has a bounce in his step and nearly every word from his lips includes his beloved.

Bucky thinks about Steve as he works until the sun rises in the sky. His heart skips when it's time to head home.

***

Boiled potatoes, tarnished cutlery, sitting across the table from Steve - _we might as well be married like Lou and Betty. I'd put a ring on that finger so fast if I could. I'd work every shift 'till my fingers bled just for the right ring._

"Lou asked 'bout you today."

Steve stops with fork halfway to his mouth - "Me?"

Bucky fidgets with his own fork and pushes a potato around on his plate - "Might've told him you were my girl."

Steve scowls and puts his fork back onto his plate with a loud clang - "I ain't no dame Buck."

"You don't think I've noticed that?"

No dame could make him want to rip his clothes off as soon as he walks through the door or make snide remarks just to watch Steve's face contort in the cutest way when he's mad.

"What'd you tell him about me?"

Bucky grins because this part is the truth. "Only the good stuff."

"And?," Steve prods.

"He invited us to dinner at his place with him and Betty. I met her once and they couldn't be more different. Bet he has 'ta crane his neck when he kisses her."

_like we do._

"Buck. You know that ain't gonna work."

"Why not? I'll jus' say she couldn't make it and I brought you instead."

Maybe it could work. He wants to show Steve off to the world - _look at what I've got. I'm the luckiest bastard in the world._

Steve takes a drink of his water and shakes his head stubbornly - "Too risky."

"Stevie we made it half our lives without anyone suspecting anything."

_'cept my ma...and yours...and a few bullies that called you a fairy. oh and our art teacher as well._

Steve gives him a look that says he knows what he's thinking & no. This will not work.

"Lou's a good guy; hes not gonna say anything if he notices but hes no good at details."

Steve's shoulders loosen up as he finishes his meal - _he's considering it._

"Alright we'll go but if there's any suspicious we high tale it outta there."

_I can't wait for Lou to meet you_

****

Two flights of stairs, stifling heat on the way up, Steve's heavy breathing next to him - _I'll carry you if I have to._

"Steve? You havin' trouble breathing?"

"Nah I'm fine, we're almost there right?"

Perspiration on Steve's forehead, jacket unzipped and blonde hair tumbling over - _oh_ _I want you._

"It's around this corner."

Standing outside of a battered door - resisting the urge to kiss Steve until every ounce of anxiousness melts right out of him -

One knock, two.

"Barnes!"

Lou's friendly face comes into view as he whips the door open and grabs Bucky into a strong hug that makes it hard to breathe.

"Who's this?" Lou turns to Steve with a confused expression.

"Sally couldn't make it and Steve here didn't want me to show up alone so he came along. He's my best friend."

Steve tenses beside of him, obviously taking offense to his new name; the one Bucky won't be using in person.

Lou eyes him up and down and his forehead wrinkles as if hes merging 'Sally's' physical description to Steve's. If he realizes, he says nothing.

"Good to meet you Steve! I'm Lou."

Steve's hand appears childlike in Lou's much larger one as the two men shake hands and Lou ushers them inside.

The apartment is tidy and is decorated in floral tones, the furniture is poor but tasteful and the air smells of baked beans and liver loaf. Bucky's mouth waters and his stomach growls. They haven't had anything that nice in a long time.

"Betty come'ere!," Lou calls as plops down in an overstuffed arm chair that he can barely fit in.

"What? I'm busy!," a feminine voice calls from the kitchen.

"We got visitors!"

"I'll be right there," she calls.

Lou gestures to a loveseat and Bucky notes that there is no sofa - only this. They will be squeezed together - at least he won't be touch starved, he thinks.

Steve's tie, his shirt with two buttons undone at the top, hands clasped together in his lap, leg intimately pressed against Bucky's - _torture._

Betty comes in with a tray of coffee and teacups and places them on the coffee table - she's like a breath of fresh air.

She's about Steve's height with an inch or two to spare, cheeks rosy and brunette hair curling around her shoulders, an apron tied around her waist.

"Who've we got here?," she asks.

"This is Barnes - Bucky and his pal Steve. Seems Sally couldn't make it tonight."

They both rise to greet her (and wouldn't Steve's ma be proud of their manners?) and Bucky extends his hand - "Ma'am."

Steve does the same and she gives them both a warm smile before Lou retrieves a kitchen chair for her to sit on.

"Tell me about your girl."  She turns to Bucky and waits - _oh shit._

Bucky blushes a deep red before averting his eyes as he answers. "Her name is Sally and sometimes she sketches - she's real good at it but she never believes me when I tell her. She can't cook worth a damn but she tries - we eat a lot of potatoes 'cause of that but I don't mind a bit."

He forces himself to stop there - he could ramble on all night about Steve Rogers.

Steve swallows hard beside of him and Bucky wishes he wasn't aware of every little thing that Steve's body does especially with four curious eyes on them.

"She sounds like a real catch," remarks Lou as he reaches over and squeezes his wife's hand.

_why can't we do that?_

"Sure is."

Lou turns to Steve - "What about you?"

Steve has a deer in the headlights look that Bucky recognizes all too well - he's going blank.

"He can't dance worth shit - girls don't wanna guy like that." The words taste like betrayal on his tongue - any girl would be lucky to be able to call Steve hers.

Steve grits his teeth - "Dancing isn't the most important thing in the world Buck."

_not here Steve. not here._

"I know that."

_simple, short, to the point._

"Sally probably doesn't even care for dancin' with you," Steve continues.

_uh-oh._

"Wouldn't doubt it." 

Betty gives them a polite smile before excusing herself to check on the food. Lou's eyes dart from one to the other. 

_reel it in, Steve._

"Who needs to dance anyhow? Not when you can...Sally can...sketch and sing off key. She does that a lot by the way and I'm kinda fond of it."

Rambling, Lou's face relaxing, Steve's deep breath beside of him, a hot gulp of coffee - _stop.talking._

"Why'd you tell him I don't have a girl, Buck? Did'you forget about Gloria?"

Bucky nearly chokes on his coffee. _Gloria??? Really Steve?_

He gathers himself and puts the cup back on the table - "You never mentioned her."

Lou sips his coffee and remains quiet - watches the two of them.

"Maybe I hadn't got around to it yet. Lemme tell you 'bout her."

Steve's eyes soften as the spark of irritation goes out.

"Her names' Gloria of course. Shes lil bit taller than I am - okay at least three inches more but she doesn't think I'm short. At least I don't think she does. She's got the biggest blue eyes and shes got a mouth on her - can argue with the best of 'um. I'm no good at dancin' but we try and she really likes stayin' in even though everyone thinks she likes goin' out. Umm...we went to Coney Island a couple of times and rode the 'coasters till I got sick."

Bucky's heart feels like it might burst - he drains his coffee and focuses on floral wallpaper instead.

Lou scoots forward and pats Steve's leg affectionately as if he knows more than he lets on. "Better keep that one around then. They're rare jus' like my Betty."

As if they're two strings knotted together at both ends, Betty returns and Lou kisses the back of her hand.

"Dinner's all ready," she says quietly.

Lou retreats to the kitchen with Betty. Steve moves to follow but Bucky grabs his hand before he can and squeezes - "I'm crazy over you, you know that?"

Steve smiles - " 'course I know, you jerk."

He is rainbows after a thunderstorm and the best kind of little white lie.

"Go on ahead so they don't suspect anything," he tells Steve before he follows a small hallway to the washroom.

He splashes water on his face & tries to think of anything other than how goddamn much he loves Steve Rogers. It doesn't work. It never does.

The table is laid out with what has to be their finest china and steaming hot food; it smells delicious.

Bucky takes his seat beside of Steve who is already enjoying large helpings of mashed potatoes, liver loaf, baby peas and baked beans.

"I'll bring Sally along next time," he says because the silence weighs heavy in the air and it has to be addressed.

Lou and Betty exchange a knowing look and Lou grins - " 'sokay. We're kinda fond of this one."

This? One?  _reading too much into it Barnes._

Nod. Smile. Eat.

The rest of the evening goes off without a hitch with the two of them on the loveseat once more as Lou weaves tale after tale of how he met Betty, their first date and how it was a disaster because he spilled punch on Betty's new dress, advice that his ma had passed down that he felt the two of them should know - about life, love and at last - the right partner.

Steve's knee bounces nervously and Bucky reaches over to grab it without thinking. Betty's eyes follow the movement for half a second before darting them to Lou's face instead. Bucky's eyebrows rise as he realizes what he has done and in front of other people no less. But friends touch friends, it's not a big deal.

"It's gettin' late, we should get home before it gets dark," he says as he stands and stretches his legs.

"Does he need a ride home?," Lou questions and points in Steve's direction.

_that's right. Steve is supposed to be a buddy and nothing more. funny._

That's what he'd been telling himself for years and his heart had refused to accept it.

"Nah he lives beside of me, he'll be fine."

Steve nods in agreement before extending a hand in Lou's direction - "Nice to meet you, sir."

Lou lifts his chin and beams at him - "Was good to meet you Mr. Rogers. Take good care of our boy here."   He jerks his head in Bucky's direction and _winks._

_Oh._

_Oh no no no._

"And tell that Sally of yours that we'll be seeing her around sometime," Betty adds. 

_they know._

Steve, as always, misses the obvious. He shakes both of their hands and uses his best manners. Bucky does the same and Lou grips his hand tighter than normal and gives him another wink. 

"Dinner...dinner was delicious. See you at work Lou? I got an early shift tomorrow." 

Lou wraps him in a tight embrace just as he had when they'd arrived only this time he whispers - "That Sally's a real nice gal. Treat her good."

Bucky pales as he pulls back and Lou claps him on the shoulder. Steve furrows his brow and turns to Bucky - all but staring a hole through him.

Come to think of it he'd been doing nothing but that all night. So much for that cover.

"We gotta get going now, it's gettin' dark and this one," he instinctively grabs Steve's shoulder and squeezes - "is blind as a bat when it's dark."

"Bats ain't blind at night Buck," Steve corrects as he swats Bucky's hand away - he's finally catching on.

"Doesn't mean you got good eyesight, buddy."

"Says the person who failed an eye exam three times when we were eleven."

"Only 'cause you kept me awake all night and my eyes were all fuzzy."

"Liar."

"Nope."

"Yea y'are."

Lou surprises Steve by hugging him and he squeaks slightly - "Keep this one out of trouble." He points at Bucky.

Steve scoffs as he pulls back - "Hes nothin' _but_ trouble."

"Me? Nuh-uh. Don't believe a word he says. He gets into fights all the time."

Lou wraps an arm around Betty's waist and sighs happily.

"Anyway! We should go," Steve grabs onto his coat sleeve and tugs him toward the door.

"We should do this again," Betty says softly as they walk away.

"I'd like that," Bucky replies as Steve drags him away.

***

"Gloria?"

Steve laughs and throws his entire body over Bucky's who is trying to relax on his stomach, sprawled across the couch.

" 'is better than _Sally,"_ he teases.

Steve's chest pressed up against his back, Lou's words echoing in his head, a full stomach for once - he could get used to this. What if they really could have it all?

" 'least I picked a name that started with an S. Who'd you take me for? A Gary or Gabe?"

Steve chuckles once more and it vibrates against Bucky's back.

"Don't be so petty; it means _glory;_ magnificence; great beauty."

"Aw you think I'm pretty Stevie?"

Bucky flips over and takes Steve with him, pinning him to the couch.

"Not gonna answer that."

Steve puffs up his chest but his cheeks give him away - they're pink and flushed.

"You think I'm beautiful," Bucky teases as he kisses each side of Steve's lips - the taste of after dinner coffee-

"I think you're a big jerk," Steve counters.

"Butchu' like me."

"Lil bit."

"Guess we'll hafta fix that then won't we, _Sally?_ " 

Bucky giggles and pokes at Steve's ribs.

"If you say so _Gloria."_

Bucky tries to bite back laughter and fails - Steve joins in and it feels like honest to goodness love. 

Steve Rogers is magic. He is the whole world in two big blue eyes. 

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> my tiny broken bird ~

**Bucky POV:**

"Can you _not_ be stubborn for once in your life and jus' let me take you to the hospital?"

Steve crosses his arms and shoots him an angry look - _keep doin' that, I like it._

"It's not broke, Buck. I already told you that."

"Then it's no big deal if we drop by the hospital and get a second opinion then." 

Bucky shrugs and eyes Steve's foot - he'd wrapped ice and a towel around it the best he could but he was no doctor.  Steve had went to the movies earlier, by himself, because he had to drop by the post office to get some stamps for his ma. He'd found him hobbling out of an alley with a busted lip and a limp. Naturally he'd put on a strong front and insisted he was okay despite the fact that he had to lean against Bucky the entire way home. Bucky didn't bother asking what caused it, Steve hated that.

"We can't." 

"Why not?" 

Steve eases back onto the sofa and winces when the movement makes his foot ache. 

Bucky knows all too well why Steve is refusing medical treatment - they can't afford it. Not with the rent due next week but _he_ comes first. Instead of humoring Steve he strides over and nearly scoops him up like a child. Steve is in no condition to protest so he grunts instead and allows Bucky to wrap an arm around his waist and slow his pace so he doesn't fall behind.

Tangerine, vanilla, a fragile broken bird who still tries to fly - _Steve._ My _Steve._

Bucky takes the brunt of Steve's weight like it's nothing & attempts to make him smile on the walk to the hospital.

" 'member when we were kids and your ma wasn't home so I got the spare key and slipped into your place and you tried to hit me 'cause you thought I was a burglar? Had bruises on my ribs for weeks."

After that he'd made sure to knock before letting himself in.

" 'is your fault for being so sneaky," Steve huffs quietly.

"I thought you were sleepin'," Bucky admits. _I missed you is all._

"Well I _was._ "

Steve attempts to blow the hair out of his eyes and fails miserably; Bucky stops in the middle of the sidewalk with Steve propped up against him and gently brushes it aside. He thinks of all the times he wanted to do just that - a simple gesture of love - and couldn't. He lingers a moment too long and a couple squeezes past them, muttering about manners. 

"Sorry, guess we should get goin'. That foot needs looked at." 

The walk there felt longer than it should've with every minute feeling like Steve's foot might be getting worse. 

Stomach sick, biting the inside of his jaw to keep from showing Steve how worried he was, the smell of Steve's shampoo -

"Alright buddy, we're here. Sit down here and I'll get you signed in."

Steve looking smaller than before in a worn hospital chair that had a large rip down the seat of it, papers to be filled out, the click of a pen, the pounding of his heart - thinking to himself that he should be used to this by now but it never gets easier.

The distance between his chair and Steve's - miles and miles, feeling utterly helpless and more like a kid than an adult -

"Mr. Rogers?"

A short nurse with rich brown hair and green eyes steps out and gestures for Steve to come back. Bucky follows, why wouldn't he?

Steve's thick folder of health conditions and enough visits to the doctor to keep the man in business for decades, the blood pressure cuff around a pale arm, the stubborn set of his jaw and eyes that could never hide a thing - _he's frustrated._

He never takes his health as seriously as Bucky does and it's unnerving. If left to himself he'd have let the foot remain injured.

"Okay we're going to get this foot x-ray'd. Follow me."

She collects the overflowing folder and begins to walk away. Wheelchairs are forever in short supply due to there being more patients than supplies so Bucky wraps an arm around Steve's waist once more and shes moving too fast but he's not going to rush Steve. _She can wait._

"Go ahead and take off your shirt. Sir, if you want to step out the doctor will be right with him."

Rubbing alcohol, a room that nearly swallows Steve up whole, bright lights and hating to have to leave -

"I'll be right outside the door okay? 'mm not goin' anywhere."

Steve's tiny smile that says _it's okay, I'm used to this by now and you worry too damn much,_ the impatient expression on the nurse's face as she walks away to retrieve the doctor -

Outside of the door Bucky paces and keeps his hands crammed into his pockets, worries about Steve and whether his foot is broken, worries about having to leave him home alone more often because he'll certainly have to work double to pay for this, worries about Steve's pain when they walk home and wishing like hell that he could fix everything. _Ma always told me that was my curse; always wanting to make things right even if I couldn't. It only ever applied to Steve though._

Heavy door opening, a man with a graying beard and glasses nods and leaves the room, Steve's bare chest in the light with every rib showing - _do you even know how important you are to me?_

Bucky rushes forward and snatches up Steve's shirt, tosses it to him and sighs - _don't they know he'll get sick if he doesn't wear a shirt?_

"Well?"

"Broken."

_god no._

"They're gonna put a cast on it."

"So you're...you'll be okay?"

_jesus. is that timid voice mine?_

Bucky clears his throat and straightens his back.

" 'mm fine. Jus' won't be able to leave home for awhile."

_that's a relief._

Nod. Chew lip nervously. Pace.

_why the hell am I terrified? they said he'll be fine._

"Buck, 'mm not dyin' "

Steve attempts at humor and grabs at his shirt as he rounds the table once more -

"I know you're not."

The doctor enters then with plaster and medical equipment that, unfortunately, Bucky is all too familiar with. He steps away and keeps his back to the wall as they work; catching Steve's eyes every so often and trying to make himself appear more calm than he is.

"That'll do it! Keep off of this foot and -," the doctor turns to Bucky; shrewd eyes narrowing and trying to figure out if he's Steve's caretaker, "Make sure it stays elevated. Put it on a pillow; that'll take care of any swelling. Here's your discharge papers and a leaflet about after care."

Accept the papers. Nod. Breathe.

He leaves.

"Ready to go home?," Bucky asks.

"Been ready since we got here," Steve retorts and Bucky notes that no matter what Steve Rogers goes through his attitude will persevere.

Bucky repeats the same action as earlier only Steve leans more heavily at his side.

Fork over what little cash they have, palms sweaty, gnawing feeling in Bucky's gut; _we're just kids acting like adults_ -

Steve's thick cast hiding a slender pale leg that Bucky's more than fond of - every inch of him to be exact - he can't stop staring.

"Quit that."

"What?"

"Starin' at my leg like it's gonna fall off."

Dark streets, lights reflecting onto the sidewalk - home is too far away.

"Tryin' to make sure you're safe is all."

_I could swing you over my shoulder and we'd get there faster._

"Told you I'd be fine," Steve retorts.

Bucky tightens his grip on Steve's waist - warm through his thin clothing - _I'll take care of you whether you like it or not._

"You also told me your foot wasn't broken," Bucky counters. 

Steve huffs but can't come up with a single argument. 

The apartment comes into view with its two flights of narrow steps and concrete landing -  _there's no way hes gonna be able to climb those again._

"You're not gonna like this," he mumbles as he sweeps Steve up onto his shoulder in one swift movement.

"Bucky Barnes put me down right now, I'm not a sack of potatoes!"

Steve attempts to swing his legs and moans as it only results in pain.

"Hush up and stop fighting me. One more flight to go."

Steve's body warm against his own, the heavy cast pressed up against Bucky's chest, the smell of cigarette smoke from the apartment next door - it's late enough that everyone is indoors.

Even breaths, one step at a time, Steve's head defeatedly propped up against Bucky's - ear against ear -

Bucky pats his trousers with one arm while holding onto Steve with the other and comes up empty. In his rush to get Steve to the hospital he'd left the key behind.

"Pocket," Steve mumbles against Bucky's shirt.

"Mine or yours? 'Cause I got nothin'."

"Mine, right pocket."

Bucky dips his hand into Steve's pocket and brushes past a soft thigh; resists the urge to linger when the ache in his shoulder reminds him of where they are. He palms the key and opens the door with one arm - the other curled around Steve's waist and not releasing for anything.

"You can put me down now," Steve grumbles.

_maybe I'll hold onto you all night like this if you keep it up._

None the less he lowers him onto the couch and dashes to the bedroom to grab his own pillow which is considerably less threadbare than Steve's because it usually ends up on the floor before morning. 

Prop foot up, two pillows, ice, a blanket, pain medication, sleepy blue eyes staring back at him; realizing it's later than he'd thought -

"You should sleep here tonight 'cause I don't wanna kick you by accident," he says. 

Steve frowns and jabs at the cast, already hating it. 

_aw shit you know I can't leave you._

Bucky retrieves Steve's pillow and the last blanket; curls up beside of him on the couch. Steve is warm and welcoming against his body.

"You'll get a crick in your neck if you sleep here," Steve says even as he leans his head up against Bucky's and nuzzles his neck.

"Don't care."

"You're stubborn," Steve replies and Bucky has to laugh at that -

" _Me?_ Last I checked I wasn't the one with a broken foot who refused to go to the doctor."

Steve scoffs - "You'd do the same and you know it."

_yeah because I promised I'd take care of you and I can't if I'm injured. you don't have to know._

"Would not."

"Yea you would."

_you know me better than I know myself._

Steve bumps his shoulder against Bucky's and Bucky feels more relaxed than he has all night.

_Steve is safe._

"Nuh-uh."

_what are we arguing about?_

"Liar," Steve murmurs as he presses a kiss to Bucky's lips. The medication is kicking in and his eyes have gone glassy. He's beautiful.

Bucky kisses back, slow and lazy with tongue sliding along Steve's - _I love you more than I have ever loved myself._

"Night Steve," he whispers before dropping a final kiss to Steve's forehead.

"G'night Buck."

They fall asleep propped up against one another as close as they can get and it's everything Bucky could've ever wanted except maybe a healthier Steve.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> stay with me ~

_Alright, everything is alright_  
_Since you came along_  
_And before you_  
_I had nowhere to run to_  
_Nothing to hold on to_  
_I came so close to giving it up_  
_And I wonder if you know_  
_How it feels to let you go_

[[listen](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1nP3XB7hrFo)]

**Steve's POV**

"How 'bout you invite Lou an' Betty over?"

Bucky's stunned silence, the sound of his boots hitting the floor as he removed them, the smell of lemon that Bucky had surprised him with - ' _You're always talking about how much you miss your ma's lemonade'_ (which resulted in Steve tearing up and cradling the lemon in his palm as if it were a dainty egg) -

"What?"

Squishing the lemon's rind under his fingers, tap water filling up an empty jar, scant amount of sugar - _the way Bucky likes it._

"You heard me."

The calender says its been three weeks since that blessed dinner date where Lou and Betty had welcomed them with open arms, no question about it. Betty reminded Steve of a younger version of Bucky's ma - how she'd always had a fond smile for him when he'd swing by to get Bucky nearly everyday and they'd spend hours in his room talking about everything from Bucky's new gal (much to Steve's disappointment) to the future. They'd stretch out on Steve's bed as the moonlight shined illuminated the scratched flooring and Bucky's silhouette - Steve was happy.

Anyone like Mrs. Barnes was somebody worth knowing.

"I don't think they'd be too fond of 50 different ways to cook a potato," Bucky replied with a shrug as he stepped behind Steve and released the lemon from his hand - gave him a wicked smile as he licked a long finger up and down and for a moment Steve forgot what they were even talking about.

"Kinda bitter, kinda sweet. Jus' the way I like it," Bucky whispered in his ear.

Bucky's voice dropping low, the feel of his breath hot on Steve's ear -

Steve pulled him in for a kiss - the taste of lemon on his tongue, the smell of the outside on his skin mixed with _him_ , his hair neatly slicked back and cheeks pink, lips parted and body as close to Steve's as he could get -

Bucky pulled back with a grin - "Always did like your ma's lemonade."

Steve smirked and went back to the lemonade - his skin still tingling. He could still taste Bucky on his tongue - _want._ no. _dinner plans._

Steve cleared his throat and tried once more - "Lou?"

Bucky peeled off his t-shirt and sat shirtless at Steve's mother's kitchen table- Steve would never, as long as he lived, get used to that sight.

"Why're you so pushy about this?"

"No reason. They seemed like good people is all."  _They're the only people in this world aside from your ma who accepts us as we are._

"They are, Lou's a good man. He's been askin' about us dropping by again, says Betty really took a liking to you."

"Me?"

"Yeah, why not?"

Steve shrugs - _Not many people do. Most wanna beat me up._

"Stop that, Steve."

Steve didn't have to say a word - they had small nearly silent arguments like this sometimes. They knew one another better than anyone.

"Didn't say anything."

Stir the lemonade - into the icebox, sweat rolling down his back and wishing they could afford a second fan, the hot air that rotated around the room felt sticky on his skin.

"You didn't have to."

"We gonna invite them over for dinner or not?," Steve derails the conversation because it's veering off course and they'll have the same disagreement they always do - Steve's shit self esteem mixed with Bucky's knack for seeing only the best in him. It was endearing but repetitive.

"If you really wanna."

Sweat glistening on Bucky's skin, his fingers running through thick hair kissed by the sun - growing lighter in the warmer months - _salt._

"Next week then? That'll give us some time to get the food."

Ration an item a week, dinner on Sunday,  _perfect._

"Works for me."

Metal bending under the weight of a flame, fire ablaze and throwing off heat - _lemon and salt_.

"Come'ere, show me how to make that lemonade again."

Bucky's wide smile - eyes glistening and dark as he crosses the kitchen and pins Steve up against the counter, hands unbuttoning Steve's fly as slow as he can - teasing and drawing out the moment -

_Lemonade, Bucky and my mothers kitchen table. This is us, this is our life._

*********

Lou quietly steps into their apartment with Betty at his side and a charming smile on her face.

Steve had spent all day cleaning up the place while Bucky worked and it sparkled and shined - he'd thrown together the best and cheapest meal they could muster and it wasn't even close to Betty's culinary skills but he'd given it his best try.

The table was set with doctored up baked beans (not homemade, like Betty's), fried potatoes, corn and thick slices of fried spam. The lemonade was long gone so Bucky had picked up two packets of bright red Kool-Aid. It was hardly a feast but Lou raised his eyebrows and rubbed his stomach before taking his seat next to Betty.

Four chairs filled, food on the table, the best of company - _this is our home - our life and we're sharing it with you._

"Bucky tells us you're doing wonderfully in art class," Betty says sweetly as she scoops a spatula of fried potatoes onto her plate.

_I love it when he talks about me at work._

Steve blushes and mumbles - "Mrs. Dover seems to think so."

_It's not the same without Bucky._

"Bucky here told me somethin' 'bout blue paint, was it, Bucky?," Lou questions as he bites into a slice of Spam.

_Blue paint, the pad of Bucky's fingers on his cheekbones - the beginning of another chapter of their story. The moment when Steve thought he'd lost Bucky since everyone he ever loved died. I came so damn close to  giving up and even the thought of letting Bucky go felt like lead in my stomach._

Steve turns to Bucky who is grinning as he fills him in on the two of them getting scolded for not behaving like adults -

_Do you even know how it felt to almost let you go?  It felt like dying and I came so close to pushing you away but you never let me, did you?_

"Isn't that right, Steve?"

Bucky nudges his elbow - _What were we talking about?_

He doesn't need to ask for Bucky to know - "We almost got kicked out of art class but your manners saved us."

Nod.

Lou's ragged hat on the table, the whirring of the fan as it rotates, steam rolling off of the food, Betty's hand clutching Lou's as she eats - _You're always welcome here._

"Did Sally ever learn how to dance?," Lou winks and Betty smirks at him.

Red Kool-aid, melting ice cubes, sitting next to him and not having to pretend that Bucky isn't his everything -

"Nope, never did. 'think my toes are too afraid to give it another shot," Bucky jokes back and winks at Steve -

Stomach flip flopping, dancing around Bucky's living room when they were kids and trying once more at age 15 - worrying about transparency and eyes giving away more than they should. A thousand sloppy attempts at Bucky teaching - amounting to doing their own sensual dance in the bedroom and sometimes the living room as well.

"He'll get there," Betty says softly and no one missed the pronoun she uses on purpose. Her face softens as if to say _You're safe now._

Steve pipes in - "You could always put on shoes, you know."

Bucky scoots a piece of corn around on his plate - "Where's the fun in that?"

Lou laughs and pushes his empty plate away - "I never could dance either but Betty," he glances at her endearingly, "can wear a hole in a rug from it. We've been dancin' since our second date and I think I've stepped on her toes every step of the way."

"Don't listen to him, he's not _that_ bad," Betty retorts before taking a drink of Kool-aid.

Steve waits for her to grimace because they couldn't afford more sugar. She does not.

Lou leans forward and whispers - "She lies."

Betty overhears this and sighs dramatically - "I can hear you, Lou."

Lou takes his seat once more and squeezes her hand - _is that how we look?_

"He can't dance but he sure can sketch. Lemme show you this one he did 'couple days ago."

Bucky leaves the table and returns with a drawing of his profile as he stands at the doorway with the first rays of morning light filling the apartment - weary and bone tired but happy. It shows in his eyes. That sketch is Steve's favorite.

Lou's eyebrows raise as he passes it to Betty. He whistles and shakes his head - " 'I had that kind of talent I wouldn't be workin'. "

Cheeks heating, palms clammy - _I'm not that good._

"Should see the still life ones," Bucky adds - his face lighting up with pride as Betty hands the paper back.

"You're very talented, Steven."  Her expression is honesty and kindness.

"Thank you, ma'am."

Bucky beams at him and Steve can feel it reflecting like sunlight onto a pond - he is beauty inside and out.

Lou begins to ramble on about work as Bucky joins in and at some point throughout empty dinner plates and animated faces they land on the subject of how Steve and Bucky met.

"He tried to beat me up," Bucky replies with a nod to confirm his point.

"Jus' once is all and that's 'cause I thought you were a bully."

Lou scoffs - " _This_ guy? Never. Tell you what, he could charm a rattlesnake if he wanted to."

_I am that rattlesnake lying low in the grass - watching for years before making a move and finding that my unfortunate other half feels the same and doesn't mind sharp bites and a dark side that comes out when I'm in danger or Bucky is._

"I can believe it," Steve snorts.

Bucky's hand is resting beside of his own - fingers itching to do more than brush together. Bucky reaches over and intertwines their hands - doesn't bother hiding them under the table.

"How long have the two of you been together?," Betty questions.

_I have loved him my whole life._

"That's a funny story. Going back to that first meeting...I was nine and he was eight. I passed an alley on my way home and got about 5 paces ahead 'fore I turned around and threw my first punch for him." 

Betty's eyes water up as she squeezes Lou's hand. 

_He saved me in every conceivable way.  
_

"We didn't...haven't, um, been doing this," Steve points to himself and then to Bucky, "very long."

Lou's eyes widen and Steve realizes that it came out all wrong.

"I meant...we haven't been...well it took us awhile to spit it out is all."

Bucky raises Steve's hand and kisses the back of it lightly. Betty might as well be the sun for as bright as shes shining -

"Thought I was gonna lose him for a lil bit when the war broke out," Steve continues. His stomach churns at the idea of leaving Bucky behind. Pearl Harbor had shaken the safe little world they'd carved out around them and he'd nervously checked the mail minutes after it ran - _Please please please don't be a letter from the military._

It did not come. They'd celebrated by getting a .10 photograph of the two of them, at Coney Island. It currently graced the kitchen counter, next to Bucky's coffee pot. He'd put it there himself -  _' 'cause I don't wanna wake you up before I leave for work and I need to see your face.'_

"Heard all about that and I wondered. Sure was worried for your sake, there's some awful stories from that place," Lou cringed and shook his head as if to clear the thought of dead bodies and blood; the worst kind of carnage.

"Our neighbor got drafted not too long ago, he's a good man. He's been M.I.A. for a few months," Bucky sighs and his voice is thick and heavy. That had hit too close to home.

"Daniel," Steve finishes.

_Daniel had always been full of life and was the biggest dreamer.  
_

"I'm sorry to hear that. I'm sure they'll locate him soon," Betty replies.

Bucky nods - he doesn't know how to respond to that.

Steve mirrors his nod as he stares at the melting ice cubes in his drink - _T_ _hey float away and come back again. Kind of like us._

Lou checks his scratched up watch - "It's gettin' late, we gotta get going."

They stand half in, half out of the apartment's doorway as Lou hugs Steve tightly - same as he had before - and then Bucky.

"That was a delicious meal, I'm full as a tick," Lou remarks.

Betty laughs - "He has a way with words."

"This one too," Bucky points a finger in Steve's direction.

_Who needs poetry when I've got you? All of the words are hidden on the hollow of your neck, the curve of your hipbones, in your eyes like distant stars that dazzle up close._

"How about the two of you come by our house for supper next week?," Betty asks - her eyes are hopeful and soft.

"We'd love to, ma'am," Steve answers.

She beams at that reply, eyes crinkling at the side -

"You pick the time and we'll be there," Bucky adds.

They exchange formalities once more for good measure and leave - _Dinner next Thursday, 8pm. Don't be late._

Bucky begins to collect dirty dishes and drops each one into a sudsy sink of hot water and bubbles.

Steve nestles up against his back and Bucky leans his head back. Steve kisses the top of it - _lavender, dishwashing soap, the entire galaxy in one person._

 _"_ How'd I do?," he murmurs against Bucky as he slides his hands under Bucky's t-shirt and traces a line down his chest with his fingertips.

"Lemme show you," Bucky whispers as he spins around and grabs Steve's wrist gently - tugs him toward the bathroom.

"But...the dishes," Steve protests.

"They can wait," Bucky turns on the tap and the nozzle for the shower before all but devouring Steve with his eyes -

_Bucky's naked body, hot water sluicing his chest and collarbones - his fingers._

He unbuttons Steve's shirt slow as can be and removes his tie - teasing Steve is his favorite game and he's a real pro at it. 

"You ever gonna leave me?," Steve creases his forehead and focuses his gaze on Bucky's chest and every tiny detail - it's the small things that drive him mad like how Bucky bites his lip right before he takes what he wants, his hair beaded with water droplets, the taste of his skin - wet and all _Bucky._

"Nope," Bucky doesn't hesitate as he positions them both under the shower head and slides his hand down low enough for Steve to nearly forget what he was asking.

"Stay with me," Steve breathes against Bucky's lips - _'Cause all my life I've felt this way but I could never find the words to say._

" 'mm never leavin' You're stuck with me for life," Bucky replies.

_You are my life. _

"Good."

"What 'bout you? What if you meet a gorgeous dame who-," Bucky begins.

Steve presses a finger to his lips before he can finish and Bucky being Bucky - he trails his tongue along the finger.

_Focus. I'm trying._

"It's you and me 'till the end of the line."

Bucky nods - his eyes are teary as he holds onto Steve as hard as he can.

" 'till the end of the line," Bucky repeats as he drops a kiss onto Steve's damp hair.

_I'm yours._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have some Kool-Aid history and a glass on me http://kool-aiddays.com/history/


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love like this may come once  
> Like a soul mate, he's your penguin~

__   


[[listen](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CzTFqKc5hT4)]

**Alternating Bucky/his mother Winifred's POV**

**1929**

Winifred Barnes collects extra blankets - (the spare ones she keeps on hand for a certain feisty ten year old) and passes them to Bucky. Bucky is messy brunette hair and crystal blue eyes, fingers latched onto Steve's shirt as he drags him to his room. Steve never protests - he's much shorter and thinner than Bucky and at ten years old he appears younger than he is. He often stays the night due to his mother working long shifts at the hospital or domestic squabbles at his home. He has been Bucky's shadow since they first met and Bucky has never been happier. Between the two of them they only have one another and they never seem to mind it.

Bucky's room isn't terribly big and only has a single twin bed pushed against a wall with a metal bed frame, walls decorated with posters of famous baseball stars and sketches Steve has gifted him with and he's quite talented for his age. They range from drawings of the view outside of his window when they can't be together to Bucky's profile when he's laughing. It's a beautiful bond that they share & she's grateful that they have one another.

"Time for lights out, boys," she calls as she watches them burrow under Bucky's covers with the spare ones thrown over top. The bed seems cramped and perhaps they're almost too old to be sharing it but they're happy and that's what matters.

"Night Mrs. Barnes," Steve says with a grin. He's swimming in covers and only his head and two thin hands are visible. He has the same dirty blonde hair as his mother - Sarah Rogers is a lovely woman with a fierce determination to get by and a deep love for her only child. She only trusts Winifred with Steve and knows that he'll get his nightly medication and Bucky will be there to listen for his chest rattling or a loose cough.

Bucky makes her beyond proud. He's rough with Steve as most boys their age are and doesn't treat him like he might break at any moment and he reminds Steve to take his medication if he misses a dose. Steve, in turn, keeps Bucky on his toes and there's never a dull moment.

"Night ma," Bucky joins in. His head is pressed up against Steve's and he has a wide grin on his face.

"Night boys. Bucky, let me know if Steve's asthma acts up. Okay?"

Bucky nods - _My ma is the best._

She flickers off the light and closes the door behind her.

"Let's play a game!," Bucky says excitedly as he kicks off the covers. Steve collects them - _if you're not gonna use 'um then I will._

"Your ma said to go to sleep," Steve lectures. He has a streak of rebellion in him but for the most part he follows the rules. 

"Then we'll be real quiet," Bucky replies as he drops his voice to a whisper. 

"Buck you know I can't hear you when you do that," Steve frowns and crosses his arms.

"How 'bout this then?," Bucky adjusts his tone and speaks louder but not so much that his parents could hear. 

"That's better," Steve says with a nod. 

"K, come down here," Bucky climbs off of the bed and onto the cold floor - sits with his legs crisscrossed. 

"It's cold," Steve complains. 

Bucky rolls his eyes - "Then bring the blankets."

Steve collects as many as he can and wraps them around him - 

"You look like a cinnamon roll," Bucky laughs and pokes Steve's arm through the blankets.

Steve huffs - " 's better than freezin' to death."

"I wouldn't let you die and you know that," Bucky shakes his head and keeps his tone light though the idea of living in a world without Steve Rogers makes him sick to his stomach - _Wouldn't let you die; n_ _ever in a million years._

"Only 'cause if somethin' happened to me no one would put up with you," Steve smirks and Bucky grins back - they share the same type of biting humor.

"I guess not."

"You gonna tell me why we're sittin' on this cold floor in the dark?," Steve questions.

"We're gonna play a game. 's called truth or dare. You pick one or the other and you gotta answer honestly."

_This is the game Billy O'Mally keeps talking about, says it's a lot of fun. Can't think of anyone else I'd wanna play it with._

"Alright, who goes first?"

"We'll flip a coin," Bucky collects a penny from under his bed - _Really should listen to ma and clean under it once in awhile. Oh hey, there's Steve's missing sock!_

"Found your sock Steve," he waves it around in front of Steve who crinkles his nose up. "Why you givin' it to me for? I don't want it."

" 'cause it's _yours."_

"Nuh-uh that one's gotta hole where your big toe sticks right through it. 's not mine."

Loose thread on the end, a large hole - _better get ma to mend that.  
_

"Oh well." Bucky tosses aside the sock and flips - calls heads mid air. 

It lands with a spin - tails. 

"I get to go first," Steve taunts. 

Bucky rolls his eyes. 

"Hmmm...truth or dare?"

Bucky thinks for a moment - "Dare."

The room is pitch black but Bucky is sure that if he could see Steve, those blue eyes would've lit up. He's all about risks. 

"I dare you to....get back up on the bed with me 'cause it's cold and my butt's goin' numb."

Bucky laughs - "That's not a good dare Stevie but okay." 

They huddle under the covers once more, squish together as they giggle over nothing in particular. 

"My turn! Truth or dare?"

Steve contemplates - his forehead wrinkling as he weighs the odds. "Truth."

"Is it true that....you purposely pick fights?" 

Steve groans - "Maybe."

"Nope, you gotta say yes or no."

"Fine," Steve says as he drags out the syllables. "Yeah." 

Bucky pinches his arm and he yelps - "I knew it!" 

Steve pinches back and giggles. "My turn, truth or dare Buck?" 

"Dare!"

"You can't keep pickin' dare," Steve grumbles. 

"Yeah I can."

"Okay then. I dare you to....hmmm....hold my hand." 

Bucky's heart skips in his chest - it's the first time Steve has ever asked for something like that. Sure, they wrestle and share a bed but this feels more like something a boy and a girl should do. Still, the rules are the rules. He reaches over and places the palm of his hand on Steve's. Steve flips his hand over and tangles their fingers together. Bucky feels his skin warming and a tingling in his stomach - he squeezes Steve's hand tight and doesn't remove it even as they move on to the next.

"Stevie I dare you to...umm...no I can't," Bucky falters. 

"Can't back down, that's what you said," Steve reminds him. 

Bucky kicks off the covers on his side of the bed and puts Steve's hand - still clutching his own, on his chest overtop of his heart. 

Steve snuggles in close and props his head up against Bucky's shoulder and yawns. 

"K, I dare you to kiss me," Bucky blurts out. _Uh-oh._

Neither of them are even old enough to have experienced a first kiss but Bucky has watched enough of his ma's black and white shows to have a vague idea as to what it's all about.

Steve is silent - "Stevie? Do you need your inhaler? Are you sick?"

Bucky tugs on his hand and Steve squeezes back - " 'mm fine, was thinkin' is all."

"You don't hafta if it makes you scared," Bucky replies with a sigh. _I don't know what I'm doing anyhow._

" 'mm not scared," Steve protests.

"Do you...wanna?," Bucky asks, cautiously.

Steve hesitates for a  moment - "Yeah."

Bucky flips over on his side and scoots in closer to Steve - one hand still holding his and the other gently wrapped around Steve's cold cheek. He gets as far as leaning right over Steve's lips and freezes.

"You gonna kiss me or not?," Steve whispers, impatiently.

Bucky takes the initiate and gently presses his lips against Steve's - he's surprised when there are no actual sparks because it feels like the room should be filled with bright red and yellow fireworks. 

It's a fleeting kiss and he pulls away but Steve isn't letting him off the hook that easily. " 'is a dare, you gotta hold up your end of the bargain." 

Bucky can feel him grin against his lips as he returns the kiss with two loud smacking kisses and one lingering one. The tingling feeling in Bucky's stomach seems to get worse around Steve, he notices but it's not unpleasant. He wonders if Steve is feeling the same.

"Does your stomach feel weird?," he questions as he leans back against his side of the bed. He has yet to release Steve's hand - he likes the way it feels in his own; as if they're meant to be together.

"Kinda, yeah," Steve answers, timidly.

"Umm...where'd we leave off?"

"It's my turn," Steve replies.

"Okay, truth or dare?"

Bucky's heart pounds in his chest, harder than it ever has and he feels like smiling until his face hurts - like singing at the top of his lungs.

"Truth."

Steve takes a moment to think - "Is it....is it true that you...that maybe you liked that?"

Bucky grins - "Yeah."

There is a beat of silence between them before Bucky continues - "Your turn. Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Is it true that you...that you liked it too?"

Bucky is more aware of the thin body curled snugly against his own with mountains of blankets over him - _I've never been so happy in my life. I'll never leave him._

"Yes."

He can feel Steve's laughter against his side and he joins in. Somehow it feels like they've did something they shouldn't have (Bucky has heard all about those men in the news who got locked up because they liked another boy like he likes... _Oh._ ) but Bucky can't bring himself to feel an ounce of regret.

_Steve. My best friend. He likes me like that too. It'll be our secret._

"Wanna do it again?," there's a hint of mischief in Steve's voice and Bucky can't resist. 

He does not answer - instead he kisses Steve like hes saw movie stars kiss and it's so much better than before. Steve's lips are soft under his own and all Bucky can think about is how important Steve Rogers is to him and that perhaps there's a reason why he's so keen to protect him and fight off bullies. 

****

**The next morning**

Winifred pours Steve a glass of orange juice and slides a plate of pancakes his way. Bucky has already started on his and he's nearly bouncing, he's so happy. She wonders what put him in such a good mood. He's always grinning around Steve but it's brighter this morning - the same look he gets on Christmas morning when he finds a fresh tangerine in his stocking and a new pair of socks.

"How'd you boys sleep last night?"

She pours herself a cup of coffee and takes a seat at the head of the table - her husband has already left for work, long before the boys woke up. They'd slept in until 9:30 this morning where they were usually up around 7am.

Steve grins widely and stuffs a large slice of pancake in his mouth so that Bucky has to answer.

"Just fine, ma."

"You must've been awfully tired to have slept in so late," she remarks as she takes a sip of her coffee.

Bucky stares intensely at his pancakes and focuses on slicing them into tiny pieces while Steve watches.

"Hmm?," she prods.

"Huh? Oh, yeah we were real tired," Bucky answers as he swirls a bit of pancake around in syrup.

Steve nods and eats his breakfast in silence as he kicks Bucky under the table. Bucky grins around his cup of juice and kicks right back.

Winifred smiles at them - they're quite a pair. _These two will be together likely for the rest of their lives_ , she thinks to herself.

"You'll have to get more rest tonight then. Steven will you be staying over tonight?"

Steve pushes around a lump of pancake that's falling apart - "Ma is working late for the next couple of nights." _I miss her._

"Then you'll spend the night here for those nights," Winifred replies with a warm smile.

Steve looks up at her with bright blue eyes and a shy smile - "I'd like that, thank you ma'am."

"Thanks ma!," Bucky echos enthusiastically.

They polish off the rest of their breakfast and scrub the dishes without being told to - Winifred watches them giggle and splash one another with suds and hopes that they never have to find out what life is like without the other.

 _Yes_ , she thinks, _Steven Rogers is the best thing in Bucky's life. They were born to love one another. It's not often that you find your soulmate before you're even old enough to understand._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SUPER FLUFF. I really enjoyed writing this.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you're the best thing I never expected~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bubble bath <3 THIS CHAPTER IS NSFW. heavily inspired by a certain page of The Song of Achilles (go read it! lots of Stucky parallels)

** **

**Steve's POV:**

Floral scented bubble bath, two towels, Bucky coming home early from work -

"How'd you get this?," Steve holds up the bar of soap that reads: '[Swan](http://i.ebayimg.com/00/s/MTA3OVg4MDA=/%24T2eC16VHJGwE9n%29yTeQ3BQ7%29IFziT!~~60_35.JPG): a baby gentle floating soap that's a'sudsin whiz! Swan up & see!' as Bucky collects two towels and tugs him toward the bathroom.

"Got it after work, I dropped by the drug store," Bucky replies as he adjusts the water temperature in the bath and places the towels on the floor next to it.

"Sure you wanna do this now? It's only 3 in the afternoon."

Bucky's raised eyebrow, cocky grin, glint in his eye, skin smudged and dirty from work -

"Been waitin' all day to get home to do this."

Cheeks heating up, bathroom mirror steaming, Bucky removing each piece of clothing slowly and watching as Steve comes undone -

"Come'ere I can help you with that," Bucky's clothes are in a sloppy pile beside of the bathtub as he unbuttons Steve's shirt and grins.

Bucky's body- knowing each and every inch of it, tub filling up with bubbles that smell heavenly with notes of lavender - _Bucky._

Bucky reaches down and pops the button on Steve's pants - running his finger down the length of him, tantalizing. _I want you._

"Not yet," Bucky answers Steve's silent plea as he removes the last of Steve's clothing and nuzzles his neck -

_I've never been so turned on in my whole life._

Water warm like the lake they swam in as children - early July, Bucky's skin sliding up against his own, bubbles overflowing the tub, the sound of Bucky's laugh -

"Missed you," Bucky whispers as he nibbles the bottom of Steve's ear and drags him in until he's straddling him.

_Oh sweet death._

"Missed...you too, Buck."

_Can't form a sentence when you're grinding against me like that._

"Did I ever tell you," Bucky begins as he sucks a purple bruise onto the side of Steve's neck, "how much I love this...."

He works his way over to a sharp collarbone and licks - "And this..."

Steve moans and nods.

"What about this?"

Bucky's callused hand wrapped around him like a blanket in the middle of Winter -

"Uh-huh," Steve whispers.

"I _know_ I told you how much I love _this,"_ Bucky growls as he grabs Steve by the hips and grinds into him - _Stop that or I'm going to explode._

"You didn't," Steve fibs and grins as he mouths Bucky's ear.

"Oh? I'll have to make up for it then."

Lavender, wet lips under his own, slick tongue, memories of bitter lemonade on his finger and Bucky's mouth as he licked it off -

"I'm...I'm gonna...Bucky."

The moon when it's full, the tide rushing in and swallowing up the shore, starlight and sunshine, flowers and  _his_ face -

Steve moans Bucky's name as he rocks against his hips and juts into his hand - he comes so hard that it makes him dizzy with its intensity -

Bucky grins widely as Steve reaches down and returns the favor.

Bucky's neck - dripping with perspiration and bubbles, pink kiss bruised lips parted, hands holding tightly onto Steve's hair - _I want to remember this forever._

"Steve...Oh god...Steve...," Bucky repeats his name as if it's a prayer and it's as close to a religious experience as Steve has ever had. He wants to be baptized in this love - let it burn into his skin until all that's left is Bucky. _Dip me into the river Styx and make me immortal because I want to relive this everyday of my life._

Bucky moans and releases hot and sticky in Steve's hand.

"Jesus...Jesus Christ Steve...I shoulda' bought that bar of soap a long time ago."

Bucky's flushed skin, eyes glistening - the afterglow

Steve leans in for a kiss - passionate as he pours every ounce of love into it - _I love you, I love you, God...I love you._

"We'll buy a thousand bottles if we have to," Steve replies as he turns around and presses his back up against Bucky who curls his arms around him -

_Safe._

Bucky hums against his skin, grins as he nips a shoulder -

"I woulda' waited a whole lifetime for you, you know that?"

Steve leans back in Bucky's arms and if at all possible he's even more in love than the day before.

"But you don't have to. You know I'd do the same, right? Every single day of forever."

_I'm all in._

Bucky dots gentle kisses along Steve's shoulder - whispers _I love you_ into every one of them. "You gotta hold up your end of the bargain."

Bucky's childhood bedroom, baseball posters on the wall, being one anothers' first kiss - fear and butterflies in their stomachs - a game of truth or dare that brought feelings to light and set Steve on fire from the inside out -

"Always do."

_You're the best thing I never expected._


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> all of the stars, you make them shine like they were ours  
> ain't nobody in the world but you and I  
> ain't nobody in the world like you

**Steve's POV:**

Eleven p.m., Bucky lightly trailing a finger up and down Steve's arm, grinning against his chest at nothing at all, the rhythm and bustle of the city outside their window -

"Ma's dropping by tomorrow," Bucky says quietly as he presses a kiss to Steve's temple.

Winifred, the smell of freshly baked cookies, childhood memories and her warm smile -

"What for?"

Bucky shrugs - "Just wanted to visit I guess since shes only been here once."

"I should pick up the place."

Discarded clothing draping over the edge of the bed, a path of trousers and shirts hastily removed and leading up to the bedroom when Bucky came home early -

Steve moves to nudge Bucky's heavy arm away from his waist where it's enveloping him - this only serves to make Bucky hold him tighter.

Warm skin that smells clean - soap, spit slick on Bucky's clavicle bone from nuzzling in and burying his head there -

"Let me up, someone has to clean up this mess. Can't have your ma knowing what we've been up to."

Cheeks turning red, skin prickling - embarrassment

"Mmm...think she already knows," Bucky murmurs as he nips Steve's neck, leaving a wet spot in its wake.

_What? How?_

"...did you tell her?"

Lips wandering to kiss behind a sensitive ear and gently biting on an earlobe - _oooh yes. that._

"Didn't have to."

"How long has she known? Did she...did she say anything to you about it?"

Fingertip migrating to drift over each ribcage, mumbling against skin -

" 'mm not sure and no."

Steve groans - _are we really that obvious?_

He nudges Bucky aside and tumbles to the floor in a mess of sheets as they tangle around his feet. To Steve's annoyance, Bucky finds this amusing even moreso since Steve's clothes are all over the apartment and _not_ on his body.

Steve glares and pokes at Bucky's forearm - "Up. We can't have your ma thinkin' we live like wild animals."

Bucky cocks an eyebrow - "But we do."

Sheet slipping past Bucky's hipbone, a trail on his chest leading to Steve's favorite place -

_No no no._

"Clean," Steve bosses as he retreats to the living room to tug on a pair of clean underwear and wrinkled pants.

Groaning from the other room, the shuffle of bare feet, the faucet coming to life, sneaking a peek around the corner at a very naked Bucky standing at the sink with toothbrush in hand -

_Yeah. Like you could ever hide your feelings for him._

They move back and forth around the tiny apartment, in tandem, until the place is put back into order with dishes drying, laundry gathered and even the piles of books have been straightened.

Then and only then do they recreate that path of clothing.

 

*******

"I brought a fresh loaf of bread, figured the two of you could use some food. You're looking awfully thin lately, Steve."

Winifred Barnes - concerned hand on his pale cheek, the smell of warm bread and yeast in the air, Bucky raising his eyebrows suggestively when her back is turned -

_That's because we spend more time christening every inch of the apartment than we do eating._

"It's a good thing that you brought that bread then," Steve replies with a smile.

She nods and embraces both of them at once - squeezing their shoulders together.

"You never gave me the grand tour last time I came by. That was what...a year or so ago?"

 _Oh no. The bedroom._ _She'll see our shared sleeping arrangements.  
_

"There's not much to see but I can show you around," Bucky answers with a charming smile as he laces an arm through his mothers. 

Steve follows one step behind. 

She softly runs her finger over Sarah Rogers table and smiles with a hint of sadness in it.

_We all miss her._

A moment or so later Bucky announces, "And that's it."

Winifred pulls a confused expression and eyes the closed bedroom door. 

"Where do you sleep? I'd hate to think of the two of you having to sleep on the floor."

_Only on the nights where we don't make it to the couch or the bed._

Bucky's frantic blinking as he clears his throat, hair falling over his forehead and reminding Steve of when they were children - all innocence and guilt on his face -

"You don't wanna see that, ma. It's a mess."

Winifred ignores this and pushes past him, the door creaks as she opens it.

Two beds pushed together in the center of the room, neatly covered with scratchy blankets and two pillows side by side, curtains drawn closed as the sun beats through them and casts the floor in dazzling light, Bucky's clothes in a pile with Steve's (carefully scooted against the wall) -

Steve bites the inside of his jaw and Bucky moves to his side and loosely latches his pinky finger with Steve's.

 _Thank you, I love you,_ Steve mouths silently.

Bucky winks and returns the sentiment.

Winifred turns with watery eyes as she clasps her hands together at her chest.

"Ma? What's wrong?"

Bucky releases Steve's finger and places his hands on her forearms, bends down to swipe tears from her cheeks, Steve collects a wad of clean toilet paper and offers it. She takes it and dabs at her eyes.

"There's nothing wrong, I'm happy. I'm so proud of you two."

Exchanging confused glances with Bucky, Winifred squeezing Steve and dotting his face with kisses that leave lipstick marks -

"For what?," Bucky questions as she does the same to him then puts a palm on both their cheeks.

"I always knew it from the minute you found one another. A mother always knows."

Relief washing across Bucky's face, shoulders relaxing, mirroring him -

"You're not mad?," Bucky asks.

Steve recognizes his concerned and scared expression. It makes him appear smaller somehow, timid.

"I never have been," she answers as she wipes at her eyes once more.

"I love you, ma," Bucky wraps her in the biggest bear hug.

Butterflies in Steve's stomach, the overwhelming feeling of acceptance - _I feel like I could fly._

"I'm glad that it was you," she sniffles as she hugs Steve once more and smooths his hair down before wiping at a smudge on his cheek, with her thumb.

_You make me miss my own ma._

Steve blushes as Bucky takes his hand and his ma takes in the sight with eyes so soft and loving that it nearly makes Steve tear up. Bucky does just that - only Steve and his family are allowed to see this side.

She takes a deep breath and fans herself to keep from crying - "How about I slice us up some bread? I brought butter in case you didn't have any."

Her voice carries on as she makes herself at home in the kitchen and tsk's at the nearly empty fridge.

"I brought you some groceries, why don't you boys go get them while I get the bread ready?"

"Yes ma'am," Steve says politely as he obediently follows Bucky to the door.

When they make it to the vehicle Bucky presses kisses to each pale wrist and nearly vibrates with happiness.

"See? You worried for nothin'," he murmurs as he brushes his thumbs against Steve's pulse.

_Love, love, love. I'm so in love with you._

"She said shes always known -," Steve begins.

"And my ma is never wrong," Bucky finishes.

"Guess I'm stuck with you now," Steve teases as he brushes past Bucky and collects brown paper bags filled with toilet paper, butter, a jar of honey, sliced cheese, a carton of eggs, orange juice and a tiny package of ground coffee.

The ease of bumping shoulders with Bucky as they walk, the lack of personal space and Steve loves it, lungs expanding and exhaling with happiness -

"I _am_ your feather after all," Bucky murmurs as he pushes the door open.

Recalling - _You're my feather, Buck._

"Always?," Steve asks as he places a bag on the floor and leans in close enough to kiss.

"For as long as you'll put up with me," Bucky teases as he puts his bags on the floor beside of Steve's.

Hot breath fanning against Steve's lips, Winifred rattling pans and dishes in the kitchen, fresh bread, Brooklyn, Bucky -

_I can't believe that this is my life._

"Always then," Steve whispers. 

Bucky licks his lips and curls an arm around Steve's neck, drags him in for a kiss too passionate considering they have company but Steve can't bring himself to move away. Spit slick lips slide against his own and Bucky's tongue licks along his lips until he parts them with Bucky's breath comes out more like a desperate pant against his mouth. He moans low in his throat and Steve breaks away long enough to hiss "Shhh!" which gets him a devilish grin and -

Both turn when they hear a small squeak of delight - Winifred has oven mitts on and is staring at the two of them like shes just won the lottery. 

Bucky grinning and pecking Steve on the cheek - Steve blushing, Winifred wandering back to the kitchen as she hums and murmurs to herself about soulmates.

The three of them talk openly about them falling for one another when they were just children and when they decided to confess.

Bucky's face practically glows and the tips of his ears turn bright red as he babbles on about how far they've came and drops words like _love_ and _forever_ like raindrops.

Steve has never been a fan of rain - it's cold and seeps through his clothing but Bucky Barnes is one storm he'll always welcome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lyrics from All of Me by John Legend


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I remember every word you've ever said to me.

**Steve's POV**

_I love you. I love you desperately, violently, tenderly, completely. I want you in ways that I know you would find shocking._

_I want to take you in my hands and mouth and feast on you. I want to drink wine and honey from you._  
  
_I want you under me. On your back._

[ **x** ](http://www.goodreads.com/quotes/185422-the-letter-had-been-crumpled-up-and-tossed-onto-the)

 

The sound of an alarm clock loudly ringing, Bucky's head on his chest with hair messy and sticking up everywhere - one bare leg tangled with Steve's and hot breath against his skin - 

_I don't want to move him._

The alarm clock continues to ring and vibrate until it nearly falls - Steve sighs.

"Buck? It's 6am, time to wake up," he whispers into Bucky's ear and presses a kiss to his temple.

Bucky groans and clumsily flops in the other direction, taking most of the covers with him.

Tanned skin exposed to the elements aside from the areas below his waist, waking up next to him every morning, Bucky's face smooshed against Steve's pillow -

_Mine._

Steve watches him for a moment longer before turning off the alarm clock and lumbering to the kitchen to put on a fresh pot of coffee. He pauses as it begins to brew and recalls leaving a note for Bucky before all of this and how he'd found that very note months later, carefully tucked in with Bucky's drawings. He'd chalked it up to Bucky being a sentimental sap back then but now he knew that it was much more than that.

He carefully rips a piece of a blank envelope and pens _I love you Bucky Barnes, xoxoxo_ and tucks it under the pot before curling back up in bed and peppering kisses along Bucky's jaw and the curve of his neck.

_I love you doesn't even come close._

"I get it, I get it...'mm up," Bucky murmurs as he stretches and encircles Steve's waist.

"You almost make me wanna be a morning person," he mumbles before drawing Steve's hand to his lips and gently kissing each knuckle.

Bone china - intricate but solid under whisper soft lips, waking up in a field of daisies with a smile so wide that it hurts -

"Almost huh?"

Bucky moves to trace the curve of Steve's waist with his fingertips and Steve shutters in pleasure -

"Mmmhmm gonna have to wake me up like this everyday, sorry to say," Bucky snakes a hand under Steve's shirt to find warm skin that he's all too eager to explore.

Balling hard fists into the covers, spine arching into his palms -

"Is that....so?"

Breathy moans at the mere touch of his hands -

_I'll never be able to tell you no. I want this, I want this, I want you._

Steve stradles Bucky and grinds against him.

Bucky's mouth forming a perfect  _O_ and jutting up against the friction, the sun ascending and painting the shadowy corners, hips rolling against his own - 

_Faster, harder...more._

"Not...like this," Bucky pants as he tears aside the covers and all but rips off his own clothing and Steve's.

Wet velvet heat enveloping Steve from the inside out, slick lubrication covering the junction where he ends and Bucky begins - lock and key -

"Steve... _Steve...._ "

His name muffled against Bucky's lips so the neighbors won't hear, Bucky's tongue gliding against his own - wet and hot-

"Buck...I..."

Kilauea volcano erupting and spilling down the sides - slippery and carnal, Bucky thrusting harder with one final exaltation of Steve's name before carefully pulling out, landing with a soft thud at Steve's side with a grin on his face -

"What were you sayin' about not being a morning person?," Steve teases as he stretches out on his back and decides he'll deal with the mess in a moment.

"Keep givin' me somethin' real nice to wake up to and I'll never be late for work," Bucky replies as he beams at Steve before reality sets in.

Alarm clock knocked to the floor, clothes scattered, Bucky jerking upright with lips red and kiss bruised- hair mussed and purple bruises on his collarbone -

_You break me in the best possible way._

"Shit shit shit, I'm gonna be late!," Bucky swipes at his chest to remove the sticky reminder of their morning rendezvous and dashes about with wrinkled shirts in one hand and a pair of pants in the other, one sock on, one sock off. 

Steve enjoys the frantic scene playing out before his eyes and then shuffles to the bathroom to clean himself up and get dressed.

Ma's kitchen table, two cups of steaming hot coffee, the note and a rushed Bucky -

"I'm gonna be 'bout ten minutes late, shouldn't be too bad but lets time this better next time," he mumbles around a slice of toast that Steve pushed in front of him.

_I wish ma could see us - we're every dream she ever had for me ('Don't you dare settle for anyone who doesn't accept everything about you, Steve. You deserve every bit of love that this world has to offer. When you find that person, you'll know. Just trust me on this. You'll **know** , you'll feel it.') _

Steaming coffee, loaf of bread opened on the counter with butter softening beside of it, scrap paper lying next to the coffee pot along with a dull pencil, a small bowl of sugar in between two mugs, Bucky's hair hurridely slicked back with pomade and clothes neat as a pin as if he hadn't been rushing about like a madman -

"Think you can handle wakin' up thirty minutes earlier in the mornings?," Steve grins as he nudges Bucky's shoe with his bare foot, under the table.

The cool texture of a scuffed boot brushing up against exposed skin, Bucky's eyes darkening with teeth curled over his bottom lip - knowing exactly how hes making Steve feel -

"Only thirty? Thought maybe we'd need a lil more time to....get dressed," he adds suggestively with a wink.

Skin growing flushed under his gaze, coffee abandoned in favor of linked hands with his -

"An hour then but you gotta get goin'."

Bucky's grin working its way across his face, adjusting himself through his pants, snatching the note from the coffee pot -

"Aw Stevie you left me a love letter."

Shifting away from soft eyes and a work roughened hand clutching the letter -

_I was planning on being asleep when you found that._

Bucky carefully folds it and tucks it in his pocket before leaning in with one arm braced against the table and the other on Steve's thigh -

"I love you too, Steve Rogers."

Steve turns his face to meet Bucky's and nearly melts into a kiss.

_You'll still be making my knees weak even when we're old and gray._

"I gotta go," Bucky whispers against his lips.

Hot puff of air against wet lips - Bucky sighing and patting his pocket before opening the door -

"Sure am fond of these," he says as he reaches in and holds the note up.

_I'll write you one every single day._

He places it in his pocket once more and blows an air kiss at Steve.

_You're terribly cheesy, Bucky. Don't ever change._

" 'long as you get up in the mornings I'll leave you one. 'cept for _those_ days of course," Steve smiles, shyly as he meets Bucky at the door and tugs on the zipper of his coat in lieu of touching that's too risky to do outside of the apartment or around Betty and Lou or Bucky's ma. 

"How 'bout a note _and,"_ Bucky lowers his voice and leans in close, "a nice breakfast treat."

_You did **not** just compare me to food, Jesus Bucky. _

Steve laughs and whispers - "Deal but I thought you weren't fond of morning foods." 

Bucky winks - "Always been a sucker for flapjacks and sausage." 

_He's the most ridiculous person and I love him for it._

Steve rolls his eyes and shoves him onto the landing outside of the door - "You're late. 'member? I'm afraid I'll be fresh outta pancakes if you don't get to work and I know how much you love that...syrup."

Bucky's skin a shade pinker than it was, pupils expanding, watching the internal debate hes having with himself as work wins out -

"Stop that," he hisses.

Steve raises his eyebrows suggestively - "Tomorrow mornin' we'll have a feast."

Before Bucky has a chance to mumble a witty retort, Mrs Rosa starts swatting a broom at a feral cat and cocks her head toward them -

"You boys got any flour I can borrow? This cat," she narrows her eyes at an orange tabby who is flicking its tail and waiting for her to turn away, "got in mine and I had to toss out 3 whole pounds of it. I was plannin' on makin' a big breakfast - maybe some biscuits but I sure can't now."

Steve bites his jaw to avoid from laughing and Bucky does the same before stepping down the flights of stairs and passing her apartment on the way there.

"Mornin' Mrs Rosa. Steve can help you out."

She nods and sighs.

"I'll bring it to you, stay right there," Steve replies.

Lukewarm coffee on the table, a note hastily scribbled in Bucky's handwriting -

 _I've got you deep in the heart of me_  
_So deep in my heart, that you're really a part of me_  
_I've got you under my skin_

"And he says _I'm_ the mushy one, _he's_ the one quoting love songs," Steve mumbles under his breath as he allows himself a moment to clasp the note against his heart before pocketing it.

When he emerges with four cups of flour for Mrs Rosa, he's beaming and nearly glowing with love.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> quote in summary and beginning of the fic by Lisa Kleypas, A Wallflower Christmas
> 
> Kilausea's volcano erupted in 1934 and caused rock slides:
> 
> "Thirty jets of brilliant lava also shot up from the northwest crater floor, sending fragments of pumice (frothy lava) several hundred feet above the crater rim."
> 
> http://hvo.wr.usgs.gov/volcanowatch/archive/2010/10_10_07.html
> 
> so yeah you could say Steve is very excited.


End file.
